Much more than a simple slave
by Niahara Erskine
Summary: King Alistair is poisoned and the only way to save him is by using an old Avvar spell. Warden Kaelyn Surana binds her life force to that of the king and puts him under a stasis spell that give her only 30 days to find the antidote which is in Tevinter.
1. Novel excerpt

_**A/N This story will actually start being posted on the 1st of November as part of the NaNoWriMo challenge. It is the first time I will be participating in the challenge and I hope to be able to finish the story in the span of the month. However, until then, I am very interested to see what you guys think of the idea I'm going to present in the story. As usual I do not own anything and my native language is not English.  
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><p><strong>Title:<strong> Much more than a simple slave  
><strong>Additional title:<strong> 30 Days  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Zevran/Leliana, Surana/Fenris  
><strong>Rating:<strong> M  
><strong>Summary:<strong>When the King of Fereldan is poisoned it is revealed that the poison was Tevinter at origin. But what happens when the antidote can only be found in the clutches of the Magisters? Surana and Zevran think up a ruse with Leliana where they get sold as slaves in order to find the precious antidote. Time is ticking… they have only 30 days to do so!

_**Novel Excerpt:**_

"It was poisoned!" the assassin said… "It's Tevinter posion."

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><p>"I'll cast a stasis spell on him… with the road back and forth we have only thirty days to get it."<p>

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><p>"I have to pose as a slave!<p>

"No! I cannot do this to you!"

"You are the only one who can do this, Leliana! There are no better masters of deception like the Orlesian! Act like you own me!"

"I'm going with you!"

"Zevran …"

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><p>"I want her and the Dalish… make sure I get them!"<p>

"Yes, Master!"

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><p>"Never dare contradict me again, slave!"<p>

'I am not a slave! I am a free elf! I am a mage of the Circle! I am a Grey Warden!' the mantra was repeated again and again in her head. 'I have to save Alistair! I have to save Alistair!'

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><p>"You say you are an assassin?"<p>

The former Antivan Crow had anticipated the question… however he had not anticipated who would ask that particular question.

"Yes. Would you care to use my talents?"

"Perhaps…"

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><p>"Magic," he spat. "You're a mage! You traitorous…"<p>

"I can explain!"

"Explain what? How you used me? Pretended to be my friend? YOU LIED TO ME!" he spat. "What are you? A spy? Did another magister send you?"

"I'm Ferelden! I came to help a friend!"

"A friend… such a likely tale! Tell me why I shouldn't tell Danarius now?"

"I came to help King Alistair damn you!"

"King Alistair! You are..."

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><p>"Run!"<p>

Footsteps echoed behind them.

"We have to find Zevran!"

"No time!"

"I fought a Blight alongside him! I will not abandon him here!"

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><p>"Make sure Alistair gets this. You have five hours left!"<p>

Her eyes closed and the world died around her.


	2. Prologue

**A/N Hello there everyone! NaNoWriMo has oficially started and, as a result, my story started as well. Hopefully I'll be able to reach my target and update everyday. However, today there will be two chapters as the prologue was not exactly part of my plans. Still, I felt it was needed... As mentioned many times in the past I do not own anything :D **

**Enjoy and review!  
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><p><em>And then it was over… with the Archdemon dead the darkspawn hoard quickly crumbled. Most fled back into the Deep Roads. They would remain a threat in the years to come, but the Blight had been ended before it had truly begun. Ferelden had been saved and the entire kingdom rose up to greet its new King. The Grey Wardens stood redeemed and a new age had begun. <em>

**Teyrn Loghain** had also been given a chance of redemption by Kaelyn Surana, the commander of the armies of the Blight. She would never accept giving him the honor of joining the Grey Wardens after his dealings with Arl Rendon Howe and the Tevintar Mages, but she allowed him to join the soldiers on the battlefield and command a portion of the army. He died, with honor, sacrificing himself to save the elves from the Alienage.

With Asala firmly in his grasp, **Sten** fought madly and helped the Warden clear the Marketplace and the Alienage of the darkspawn that had been overrunning them. He was one of the three companions that followed her at the top of Fort Drakon when the Archdemon was killed. After the end of the Blight, he remained in Ferelden for a while, and then returned to Seheron satisfied that his honor had been regained.

**Wynne**, had remained behind to aid those that had been gravely wounded. She worked hard, well after the Archdemon was killed, to make sure the Blight did not claim more victims that it was due. Soon after the coronation, the new King asked her to remain in Denerim as an adviser and she promptly accepter. It was too late for her to return to the Circle and become First Enchanter…

**Shale** remained Shale… unperturbed by the Blight she was glad to have many squishy things to … well… squish. She fought at the gates of Denerim and after the city was reclaimed headed towards Tevintar in order to find a purpose in her life. Some claim she even managed to regain her old life back…

**Oghren** sobered up and found a place for himself in the human society. Soon after the end of the Blight he joined the Grey Wardens of Amaranthine, where he eventually became Senior Warden, second in command to the current Commander of the Grey, Nathaniel Howe.

**Zevran Arainai** traveled the world for a while after the end of the war. However, Ferelden had a strong call for him and a certain red headed bard occupied his thoughts. He returned to Denerim where he remained as the King's eyes and ears in the shadows. Many times, he could be seen accompanied by a petite elf mage and a red haired bard as they prowled the streets of Denerim at night.

**Leliana** returned to Haven and organized at expedition at the Urn of the Sacred Ashes… however, it appeared that Maker had other plans for her and she too appeared in Denerim only a year after. The intrigue from the court of Ferelden was not as exciting as the one from Orlais, but it was there, and despite being a Chantry sister she was no saint.

**Morrigan** was true to her word and after the Archdemon was defeated she disappeared. Someone of the woman's description was later seen travelling to the Frostback Mountains. At her side, ever vigil, was a great mabari hound. Rumors had it that the Warden would not allow the one she considered one of her dearest friends to be alone and unguarded.

**Alistair** became King… although many had their doubts about him in the beginning, at the conquest of Denerim he proved them wrong. He argued bitterly with the Warden regarding her decision to spare Loghain until she pointed out that, for the General, it was harder living with the deeds he had done plaguing his memory, than dying as a martyr. Alistair understood his friend's reasoning and in the final battle he could be seen fighting side by side with Loghain in order to save the Alienage.

As time passed, he understood that despite being an honorable man, Eamon was more concerned with the bigger picture and the common good, instead of actually helping everyone out. Therefore he found himself spending more and more time in a certain Tower, locked away with the one that had truly ruled the country during Cailan's rule. It came as a surprise to no one, when, five months later, Anora was released from her tower and the King announced his intention to marry her.

As for **Kaelyn Surana**, the Slayer of the Archdemon and the Hero of Ferelden, life had other plans for her. Soon after settling down in Denerim, she was called in Amaranthine in order to rebuild the order of the Grey Wardens. She gathered another band of misfits, led by Nathaniel Howe, the son of the traitor Arl Rendon Howe, who proved to be a loyal and noble man. Together they fought against the Architect and the Mother, saving both Amaranthine and Vigil's Keep in the process. When things settled down, Kaelyn elected Nathaniel as Commander of the Grey and returned to Denerim where she would later become Chancellor after the birth of Arl Eamon's youngest child, a baby girl called Gwendolyn.


	3. Day 0: Poison

**A/N And here is the second chapter of the story. We are finally getting into the plot. Next chapter will feature Tevintar. English is not my native language and I do not own anything :D **

**Enjoy and review!  
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><p>As the Landsmeet commenced, she stood behind him, as both Chancellor and bodyguard. Somewhere, in the shadows, Zevran Arainai, former Antivan Crow and assassin, also hovered, darting his eyes in all directions in order to make sure no ill befalls the King of Ferelden. Alistair, of course, had no asked for any of this. He was blissfully unaware of all the attempts that had been made against his life during the past three years since the Blight had ended. Assassins, fanatics or fools, all tried to get through her and Zevran's defenses.<p>

Having the Hero of Ferelden next to him always helped in terms of intimidation, especially since she always made sure to wear the armor Master Wade had made for her out of drakeskin. People knew her as the Slayer of the Archdemon, as the killer of Dragons and the defender of both Redcliffe and Denerim, therefore they were less inclined to go through her in order to try and kill the King. However, there were always enough fools out there.

He was her comrade… her partner…. her companion. For a time he had been her lover when both craved companionship and a measure to show them they were still alive. He was her brother and her friend… and now he was her King. She could no longer risk anyone hurting him than she could risk someone cutting off a portion of her soul.

Next to the King stood his Queen… for a time they had fought and bickered like an old couple, she with her ideas, he with his, but in the end they had agreed that a union between the two of them would be the best solution for the country. Anora was striving hard to undo all the dramatic changes brought upon the land by the Blight and Alistair worked hard beside her. During some nights, he would slip off to the Tavern and the people would start admiring him even more knowing that their sovereign was in fact human like all others. At those times she would stand guard in the shadows, unmoving, with Leliana next to her.

The bard had returned to the Urn of Sacred Ashes and arranged a pilgrimage for the faithful… everything had gone perfect until one day the urn disappeared. The Chantry sister understood it had been the will of the Maker and did not question his decisions, opting to return to Denerim in order to be with her friends.

"My lords and ladies of the Landsmeet, I call this session to order." The voice of the King rang clear in the massive chamber. The nobles had started gathering in Denerim for the Landsmeet since a week prior and now they were all in attendance… Fergus Cousland, the last surviving Cousland, represented the teyrn of Highever, former Commander Cauthrien now Lady Cauthrien was the new teyrna of Gwaren, as appreciation for her unrivaled courage in the battle against the darkspawn, Arl Eamon had come from Redcliffe, Nathaniel Howe, the current Warden Commander was representing Amaranthine… all had gathered for the Landsmeet.

The matters brought to attention were rather innocuous all in all: the Chantry was asking for more supplies in order to aid those from impoverished villages, a report had come from the Western Hills regarding the situation of the land that was still scorched by the Blight and some refugees that had fled to Kirkwall were asking for help in order to return home. By the time the final matter had been settled and only the annual reports of the teyrns, arls and banns remained, the Chancellor was almost able to relax. Two more hours, maybe three at most and this madness would be over. Even the stoic Queen seemed tired, a thing most unusual for Anora. Perhaps something was wrong…

Three hours later the last issue had been finally resolved and everyone was able to finally retire. She decided to follow the King and Queen to their suit, in order to make sure no overeager noble decided to deter them from their destination with foolish question. The hallway that led to the private suits was bizarrely empty. Usually servants were running up and down, putting the finishing touches here and there. Zevran had left to make sure nothing happened to the other nobles, therefore the Warden was now alone and something was completely wrong…

"Alistair," she could not learn to call him "your Majesty", nor did he want her to, " Anora," the Queen had asked to receive the same treatment saying the Hero of Ferelden was beneath no one, "I fear something may be wrong."

Zevran had taught her long ago to hear the sounds that had no place inside a castle. He had trained her relentlessly to understand which were the sounds of a maid bringing lunch and which were the sounds of an assassin lurking in a corner. Right now, the soft shuffle that echoed in the hallway told her that something was incredibly wrong.

"We are in the middle of the palace;" Alistair pointed out, "What could possibly go wrong here?"

Famous last words, she thought to herself… in that exact moment the first knife flew from the shadows and three assassins descended upon them. The King and Queen were not armed, as one does not usually enter the Landsmeet chamber bearing weapons. Exceptions had been made in the past, but not today… She had only her staff so it was up to her to protect them. She threw up a shield around the two monarchs and started battling the three men furiously. Two of them were elves… the third was a human… she did not know whether they were Antivan or from Orlais as they would not utter a single sound as they battled.

The Warden was twirling with such as speed that it was almost impossible to watch, parrying a blow when it came close to her and retorting with a lightning chain and a fireball when possible. One of the assassins fell under one of her ice spells and was now an ice figure. The second one had come at close range and seeing that he was unable to get past the shield that was protecting the King, he started battling her furiously, knifes clashing with her staff, leaving her no hope of casting anything.

When steps finally echoed on the hallway, she hoped that reinforcements would be on their way. A flash of golden glittered before her eyes and the second opponent lay dead on the marble floor, blood oozing from a fresh wound in his back. Meanwhile, Zevran, for it was he who had come to their aid, was ferociously battling the last assassin who had no chance of surviving in front of an Antivan Crow. Soon, he too laid dead, his throat split open.

Believing that the threat was finally over, the Warden finally sighed in relief. Checking her surroundings left and right, she finally lowered her shield and allowed Alistair and Anora to move freely. Nobody heard the more silent shuffle that echoed on the hallway, nobody saw the veiled mage until it was too late and the knife had already flown from its sheath, hitting the King in the shoulder where the armor was loose. Zevran turned around to face him, but the mage turned into a small beetle and flew away.

"Alistair!" Anora cried out, seeing the dagger.

"No worries, it's only a scratch," the King joked lightly as he removed the dagger and threw it to the ground. However, dizziness swept over him and he found he could no longer stand on his feet. His vision darkened and he crumbled to the ground, unmoving.

"Alistair!" the Warden cried out and raced to his side, casting the strongest healing spell she was able to muster on the moment. Still, it did no good as he would not wake up. Zevran gingerly took the dagger in his hand, twirling it on all sides until he finally understood what was wrong… his face turned pale and he gazed at the Warden with a haunted look.

"Kaelyn! It was poisoned!" the assassin said… "It's Tevinter posion. Velox mortem…"

"The antidote?" she asked in a calm whisper.

"None in Ferelden. Nobody knows who creates the poison and the antidote merely that it was usually used against Tevintar Magisters and it is only they that hold the antidote."

"How much time?"

After a year spent on the road fighting the Blight, they no longer needed more than a few words to understand each other. Kaelyn already cast a levitating spell on the fallen monarch in order to bring him to his room without drawing too much attention.

"Twenty-four hours at most," the assassin said through clenched teeth. No assassins ever used Tevintar poison because it was difficult to get their hands on it. Whoever sent wanted the job done swiftly. But why would Tevintar attack the Fereldan King? It made no sense at all…

Next to them Anora gasped and swayed on her feet… in the beginning she had hated Maric's bastard son, for looking so much like Cailan, for surviving when her husband had been unable to… but in time he showed her kindness and gentleness, he fought hard to prove himself to her and he never strayed from their marriage like Cailan had done. They had become friends and in time she grew to love him… that day she had wanted to share her secret with him.

"Anora," Kaelyn looked at her with kind eyes, compassion swirling in them. "I'll save him. He's like a brother to me, I won't let him die."

The doors to the royal quarters opened and the mage gently placed the King on his bed. He looked as if he was merely sleeping, when in fact a diabolical potion was slowly killing him. With another swish of her arms, his armor flew off, leaving Alistair in his tunic and breeches.

"Zevran, we're going to Tevintar! I can put him under a stasis spell," Kaelyn said softly ,"using the run Sandal carved for me before we faced the Archdemon I can make the spell last long enough. We will have exactly 30 days to stay in Tevintar and get our hands on the antidote. The remaining days will be spent on the road… "

Putting an end to her thoughts, she turned towards Zevran and the assassin was able to see a swirl of emotions in her light brown eyes: regret, determination, guilt, anger, conviction….

"Please, find Leliana," she added softly, "we're going to need her."

She watched as Zevran nodded and left the room… what she was going to do next might probably seal her own death, but she could not stay idly and watch as Alistair wasted away due to a foreign poison. She knew Anora was watching her every move, but was certain that the Queen would understand her reason.

Approaching the King, Kaelyn took out simple, pale blue rune with a symbol of strength carved on its side. Laying it on the table next to her, she removed a curved dagger with a red stone etched in its hilt from her boot. The dagger was very small, clearly useless as a weapon… it was certain that it aimed to suit other purposed. Placing the dagger next to the rune, she grasped her staff tightly and started chanting the stasis spell… a pale, yellow light erupted from the staff and surrounded Alistair. The light grew in intensity as her chanting continued, until, in the end it engulfed him completely, then promptly disappeared leaving a shimmering hue to the King's skin.

Happy with her spell, Kaelyn took the dagger and the stone… placing the rune on Alistair's chest she chanted another spell, this one emanating a crimson light. The elf mage grasped the dagger tightly and slashed it over the skin of her left hand. Drops of blood fell on the rune which soaked it up like a sponge, leaving no trace of the ritual that had been performed. The wound also closed swiftly, as if a healing spell had been added to the powers of the dagger.

Tired, Kaelyn staggered on her feet and collapsed next to the bed, the dagger falling from her grasp with a soft thud on the carpet. Her cheeks became paler than usual and her lips lost all color. The elf's eyes bore a sunken look…

"Kaelyn," Anora rushed to her side and kneeled besides her, "What have you done you reckless fool? Was that blood magic?" The Queen's words were not harsh, meant to scold, but rather concerned, meant to make sure the Warden was all right.

"I couldn't risk him dying… if I failed… " she gasped, as if struggling to breathe properly.

"What did you do?" Anora asked again and pressed a hand to the elf's forehead… she was burning up and already her eyes had a glassy appearance. "What does the second spell do?"

"Didn't think it would take so much out of me… the spell… learned it from an Avvar statue."

A few minutes passed until the Warden was able to form coherent thoughts and recover enough to answer the Queen's question. The spell had drained her much more than she had expected, but it was the only way to make sure that he survived even if she failed.

"The spell links our life forces together… should we fail in retrieving the antidote, Alistair will simply drain life force from me thus burning the poison from his system, instead of using his own energy to do so. In the end the poison will be conquered and he will live…"

"But you will die," Anora said with an icy voice, "Whatever possessed you to do something as stupid as this? Alistair would not want you dying for him!"

"All his life Alistair sought acceptance… a family to accept him for who he was without wanting anything else in return. The Wardens managed to do so in a small degree; however, it was you who gave him what he truly wanted. I cannot rob him of the chance of living happily when I, myself, have nothing to look forward to. Despite being a Warden, I will always be a mage and an elf… always a prisoner… it is better if I die for someone I care for than live with the thought that I could have changed something."

"For the past four years you always put others before you… first Jowan, then Ferelden, now Alistair. When will you finally think about yourself?" Anora asked with sadness in her voice.

"Pray that I manage to find the antidote… if I live, I'll have time to get adjusted to this idea of thinking about myself."

Anora put her arms around the petite elf mage that was still too young to hold such responsibility upon her shoulders. Holding her close, like a mother would have, she prayed to the Maker that both her husband and the one she had come to view as her little sister would make it out of this whole ordeal alive.


	4. Day 1: Tevintar

**A/N Finally we arrive in Tevintar... hopefully you can expect a second chapter by the end of the day. Perhaps Fenris will make an appearance ;). As usual Bioware owns everything. I'm just borrowing the characters and playing with them. Enjoy and review! :)  
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><p>Three figures, hooded and hunched stood away from the rest of the crowd, in a dim lit inn near the capital of Tevintar, Minrathous. The difference between Ferelden and Tevintar was so blatant that it was startling… even during the Blight there had been laughter and joy echoing in the taverns of Denerim. Though shabby and poorly built, as if an architect had made a mistake with the design, the inns and taverns from Ferelden were loud and obnoxious, full of gossip, brags and jokes. Every now and then a drunken noble would jump on a table and start a lively jig.<p>

Here, in Tevintar, it was silence… deep, overwhelming silence that engulfed everything around it. The buildings were grand, made of marble, resting on carved columns, but just as the marble is cold as the ice so was the interior of these buildings. The lights were dimmed, as if trying to shelter and protect those that dared enter the buildings. The trio believed that this palpable fear would rise even more once they entered Minrathous.

"So, we have arrived in Tevintar, cherie , and the capital is just a few steps away from us. How do you plan on getting your hands on the precious antidote," one member of the trio asked in a quiet whisper and blue eyes glittered from behind the hood.

"Bella always has a plan. Perhaps it is time you share it with us, no?" A second voice added, the Antivan accent ringing clear in the silence of the inn.

"Once we are in our rooms I will tell you my plan, but I fear you will not like it. I do not trust this echoing silence that surrounds this country. It tells the tale of misery and death… it is worse than the Circle Tower after we got rid of all those demons."

Mere minutes later, the trio rose from their table and headed towards the upper part of the inn. Climbing two flights of stairs they entered the attic that had been changed in order to host two rooms and a bathroom. The marble and the columns were present in the attic as well, smaller, but just as cold, resembling a tomb rather than a room. Casting their hoods aside, the strangers locked the door of one of the rooms then sat down wherever they found a place. Light brown eyes resembling molten gold gazed at the other two strangers: a woman with fiery red hair and an elf with golden hair and tattoos marring his skin.

"In Minrathous," Kaelyn started "the only ones that get close to magisters are slaves and bodyguards. Everyone knows that each Magister personally trains his own bodyguards and that they are always human males. Therefore I have but one chance… I have to pose as a slave."

A pin could have dropped to the ground and the noise it would have made would have been as powerful as the blast of a cannon in the silence that fell in the room. Leliana gazed at her friend with shock painted over her lovely features, while Zevran had a look of utter horror on his face, probably knowing much more than the rest of them how slaves were actually treated in Minrathous.

"No!" Leliana snapped, her eyes flashing dangerously, "I cannot do this to you! Do you think I do not remember the discussion we had in camp during the Blight?"

"That does not matter anymore now. We have no choice… you two may be amazing spies and infiltrators, but even you cannot enter the home of a Magister unaided. A slave can…" Kaelyn stopped and looked at Leliana gravely, "You are the only one who can do this, Leliana! There are no better masters of deception like the Orlesian! You may be Ferelden at heart, but Marjorlaine thought you everything you need to know. The only thing she did right…Act like you own me! Act like you are a snobbish Orlesian lady that has a slave she no longer wishes, but needs to sell it before the authorities get wind of her actions."

Leliana stopped and sighed, deep in thought. Zevran, on the other hand appeared to be thinking things over… suddenly he pointed out a potential flow in the Warden's plan.

"Bella, you are a mage. Even if you pose as a slave the magister would feel your power, no. How do you propose solving that problem?"

"Avernus took care of that issue," she said pointing to a bracelet that was adorning her wrist. The trinket looked old and worn, made of silver most likely, with crudely drawn runes on it. It was the first time Zevran saw the elf mage wearing it. "This binds my magical powers. I am unable to do even the smallest spell with it and in turn nobody can feel my magic abilities. Thus, when I find the antidote, I can take the bracelet off and escape. Only I can take it off, anyone else would just tug on it without success… even a mage."

"I'll do it," Leliana said with regret in her voice ," but you'd better take care of yourself there. No heroics… try getting close to one of the other slaves and get out as fast as you can."

"Don't worry, cara," Zevran joined in the discussion, "I'm going with her. She'll need all the support she can get, no?"

"Zevran!" Kaelyn gasped in surprise, "I can't led you do this! I did not help you get away from the Crows just to see you end up in slavery again. You…"

"I am forever in your debt, Bella, for all that you did for me during the Blight. But Alistair is my friend as well. Will you rob me of the chance to help him?"

Kaelyn bit her lip in annoyance, a habit she had developed while she was forced to attend to the nobles, at both Vigil's Keep and Denerim. She knew Zevran had spoken the truth… it would do good to have another to back her up, especially if things took longer than expected and the spell caught up with her. Even now she could fell it, at the back of her soul, a dark and twisted link that will eventually drain her until there is nothing more left. Such was the price of using blood magic without a demon's aid…

Moreover, Zevran had the right to be able to help both of his friends… who was she to deny him that? It was hard enough to think that Leliana would remain behind, filled with worry and dread, wondering if they were returned. The risks were high, she knew all too well. It was like making a pact with the Architect…

"No, I won't," Kaelyn sighed. "You are right, I will need all the help I can get. Maybe Leli can even find out who was behind this whole business by the end of our stay in Tevintar."

"Oh, do not worry," Leliana said, "I'll simply play the role of the arrogant Orlesian noble who wants to get in the good graces of those rich and powerful. It should be fairly easy…"

"Good, then it is settled… tomorrow we shall put the plan into motion." Kaelyn nodded and prepared for bed.

Nobody truly slept that night… Kaelyn tossed and turned, remembering moments that should have remained long forgotten, buried deep in a corner of her heart as soon as she left that wretched Tower. She tossed and turned, hearing the clink-clank of Templar armor ringing in the night.

Having once been a slave to the Antivan Crows, Zevran knew full well what was in store for him. It did not matter how you called it, the fact remained that the Crows had used him as a tool and whatever magister would buy them tomorrow would do the same. It was a blessing that he would be able to protect Kaelyn on the way, but knowing her, he wondered whether he would truly be able to keep her safe.

Leliana thought hard about the role she would have to play starting tomorrow. A beautiful, Orlesian dress stood in her backpack and she had wondered from the moment they left Ferelden why Kaelyn had insisted she brought it alone. Now she knew… it would aid her in selling her best friend off to some cruel magister. Fate had a sick and twisted sense of humor…


	5. Day 2: Auction

**A/N Here is the second chapter... in the beginning I wanted to make the auction take place in day no 2, but decided against it as I wanted a different view of Minrathous. Hope the description was accurate enough... I imagine it as a blend between ancient Rome and Constantinople. Also Leliana's Orlesian accents is exaggerated in order to fit the role better. Danarius appears in the next chapter and the auction takes place. Enjoy and please review. Disclaimer stands.  
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><p>As he walked down the streets of Minrathous, heading towards the marketplace where the slavers would start their weekly auctions, he started glancing left and right, measuring the city with his steel like gaze. The city appeared as though its creator changes his mind midway and decided to try something else. Some streets were wide, immensely so, allowing hundreds of people to move freely should they wish to do so. Others were very narrow, barely allowing two or three people at a time to pass.<p>

The buildings were also something to behold, although it appeared they came from different ages of Thedas. Some, like the mansion of the Archon, were grand, resembling some castles, not simple mansions, made fully of marble, resting on intricately carved columns. Their lines were perfect, cut precisely, almost made by an artist's hand. The houses of the magisters, were less grand, but still imposing, some bearing the same architectural hand. Others bore a more circular visage, with ample domes used as roofs. These newer buildings, clearly built after the temple like structures, also favored white marble making them appear just as inaccessible.

The rest of the city was like a pale mirroring of the houses of the powerful. Great columns were seen at the inn entrances, circular domes rested over the huge pavilion of the market place… everywhere one looked he saw marble and stone, branding the city with its cold, white and grey colors. The city had been built on levels, much like the cities of the Dwarves. The Archon's house stood on the highest hill, with the houses of the magisters lying at its feet. The next level was home to the minor nobles… then came the merchant houses and those of the members of the guilt. Taverns could be found on that exact same level. The poorest citizens of Minrathous had no place in the capital itself and lived in a settlement made of wooden huts, located near the city gates. The lucky ones were chosen as apprentices to the merchants… the others barely lived from one day to another, begging for scraps.

He knew that… he had been living in the city since he was but a small child, although he did not remember those times. His memories had been replaced by hate, but he so far, he had not had any opportunities to act on this hate. So far he was forced to play the role of the faithful lapdog, obeying a tyrant's every whim until one day he would be set free.

Now, he was heading towards the market place. Inside the huge pavilion where the heath threatened to cut every living being's breath, hundreds of slaves were herded by specially trained merchants in order to be sold further to the highest bidder. His master had sent him to seek a slave that had been trained in the arts of apothecary in order to prepare the magister's herbs. His last slave had been crippled after he chose to speak up to the magister and as a result he had been sold off. His Master also wanted an assassin, but these were hard to find as they preferred to work alone in bands like the Antivan Crows did. It was almost impossible to find a slave that had been trained to be a shadow… perhaps this would be his master's lucky day.

The marketplace was bustling with activity… now and then a hit and a cry could be heard, followed by the swish of a whip. Different accents mingled in the air, Antivan, Orlesian, Rivain… There seemed to be less slaves than usual, perhaps many had died on the road… In a corner a young elf boy was crying for his mother, while his tormentor laughed merrily next to him… in the middle petite, red-headed elf girls were being checked by lecherous old men. The sight would have made him gag had he been a lesser man. For him it had become a common occurrence to check the market for slaves… he knew what to look for. He spared barely a glance to the massive, wooden scene that was being set up at that exact moment… he had other business to attend to.

The elders were of no use… they perished too quickly. The crippled, the weak and the sickly had no chance of getting his master's approval. He needed able bodied slaves that were capable of working until they dropped. He needed slaves used to a harsh environment that did not start sniveling at the first harsh word. The powerful ones were the hardest to find…

Suddenly, an exaggerate accent made his way towards him and he almost cringed at the Orlesian's whining.

"No, no, no! My zlaves are parfait… I shall not sell zem to a lowly merchant… Get out of my sight!"

"But, my Lady," the merchant groveled, "my wife is sick. I need a slave able to make poultices and help her with herbs."

"Zen go feend a proper slave," the Orlesian drawled.

Now that his attention had been caught, Fenris was able to see what the commotion was all about. A red haired woman, dressed in the finest Orlesian silk, was near a stand, followed by two elves, a petite, female elf dressed in Alienage rags and a golden haired male elf, his face marred by tattoos, dressed with the cheapest leather armor available on the market. He checked them out critically and they met his expectations: the female showed no signs of sickness, she was neither pale nor gaunt, her hands revealed no broken bones and her limbs were straight. The only curious thing about her was the rosiness in her cheeks that seemed to be there for no particular reason. The day was still young and the heat had not yet appeared in the pavilion. She did not seem as if she had run a long distance, nor as if she carried something heavy… perhaps it was a characteristic of her visage.

The male elf carried himself with a certain dignity, as if he was a member of the Dalish, yet the marks did not seem to look like a Vallaslin. He bore twin knives on his back and his fingers were blistered, probably courtesy of wielding the dual blades for so long. As in the female's case there were no signs on sickness or crippling over him, but also no attachment to his mistress. They would be a good choice at the auction.

He approached the Orlesian woman and asked in a deep, baritone voice: "May I inquire as to whom you wish to sell your slaves?"

The Orlesian glanced at him shrewdly and, looking as if she found something she liked, she started giggling like a maiden.

"To ze highest bidder of course. But I will make ze price high enough to catch the eyes of ze magisters. It iz not every zay that one sells a pair of half-Dalish brozers, one trained by the Antivan Crows and the other trained in apothecary by the Dalish Keepers."

"I see," he mused to himself. Exactly what his master wanted, an assassin and an apothecary. But was the Orlesian telling the truth?

"If they are so priceless, then why are you selling them, dear lady?" he drawled almost sarcastically.

"Ah, zat iz the question, iz it not?" the Orlesian laughed. "They are my mother's zlaves… she died and I found myself accused I killed her. It was only normal to get rid of compromising cargo."

Fenris smirked to himself… indeed, unwanted cargo, but necessary cargo for his master. An elf that had learned herbalism from a Dalish Keeper. A true fortune by herself, but added to the Antivan Crow it would be a priceless acquisition.

Suddenly a loud cry echoed in the marketplace and one of the wooden pillars that supported the auction stage collapsed, catching three unaware elves under it and crushing them. Blood stained the ground, but nobody paid them a second thought as they rushed to repair the damage done to the stage. It was not the first time such an event occurred and it would not be the last… nobody cared about the senseless death of a handful of slaves as long as they got their money. The auction will now be delayed until tomorrow when his master will most likely take part in the auction.

He turned around, not even bothering to spare a second glance at the pair of elves… they would be bought soon enough. He did not see the tiny smirk that appeared on the Orlesian's face, nor did he notice the knowing look in the Antivan's eyes or the determined stance the female elf had taken. Eyes like molten gold followed his footsteps as he left the marketplace and headed towards the mansion. Soon enough the plan would be put into motion… only one day was left…


	6. Day 3: Magister

**A/N Here is the next chapter... It took so long writing this one out because my muse decided to play with me and have me write chapters that will take place later in the story. Danarius makes and appearance and our two elves are finally place in the clutches of the magisters. Will they survive this particular ordeal? Disclaimer stands as always. :D  
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><p>The stage had finally been set up after a day of delay. Benches have been place all around it in order to give buyers a better view of the merchandise they were going to purchase. The wealthiest people had special places in the front rows, while the others were seated in the back, forced to wait until their turn came.<p>

He, of course, had one of the front seats. Grey blue eyes scanned the surrounding area hungrily waiting for the arrival of the slaves his pet wolf had talked about. Slaves were worthless, when one died you could easily replace it, but he so loved a challenge and loved to see them break. Fenris had taken his sweet time until he too gave up, but even now, there was a flame of bitterness and resentment flaring in his eyes. In this exact moment, while he was standing behind him, guarding his back, making sure no one disturbed him, Fenris contemplated the pros and cons of driving a knife through his back. He wouldn't do it though; that he was certain of… at least not until he was certain he would be able to escape.

Drums started beating in the marketplace… a plump man, with bald head and a twisted grin stepped on the stage. Silence fell in the pavilion, everyone eagerly waiting for the goods to be presented. The man smiled at those that had gathered, glad that his pockets will be filled by the end of the evening when all slaves had been sold.

"Welcome, messeres to our weekly auction. We wish to present our apologies for the unfortunate delay that took place, but now the stage is in fine shape," here another man climbed on the stage and using a wooden staff, hit the floor three times, "and will not present any more problems. May the auction begin!"

A tall man with a curved moustache came forth dragging a young elven girl after him. Her wrists were bound and she was barely staggering after the attacker. A huge bruise adorned her left cheek were an armored hand struck her. Tears were streaming down her face as she was begging something in her native language, most likely Ferelden.

"Pretty little thing ain't she?" the auctioneer laughed. "Any man would want her as a maid… or something else," he winked. "Auction starts at 1 gold coin. Magister Alameda offers 1 gold coin… does someone offer two? Two gold coins from Lord Adriel."

The auction continued in the same way it had begun… elves and humans likewise were being dragged on the scene where people started auctioning for them. Some were crying, some were begging and most were cursing in the native tongues. They struggled to break free, fought against their ropes and sometimes were managed to run a few steps before being brought back. One or two mages had also been captured and the other magisters had fought viciously for them. Nobody needed more apprentices, but thralls were always welcomed. He had not been interested in the mages… he was patiently waiting for the two elves his pet had spoken of.

Suddenly they arrived… he arrogant and aloof, unaffected by the disposition he had been placed in. The Crow markings glimmered in the dimming light as the assassin smirked to the crowd almost daring them to buy him. His sister, on the other hand, was at the opposite end… meek, subdued, with eyes lowered in the ground she fidgeted nervously scooting closer and closer to her brother. A red haired woman was accompanying them and he guesses that was the Orlesian owner Fenris had spoken of.

"I want her… and her Dalish brother," he only needed to whisper the order and he knew his pet wolf would take care of everything.

"Yes, Master!"

There could be no bloodshed in the marketplace, but having a fully armored, tattooed elf behind you tended to make his competitors less inclined to make any bids. Of course there were those that could not be intimidated, but he was certain that he could defeat them in the actual auction.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen we have stumbled upon an unique pair. Half Dalish, these two brothers have grown up half of the life in the camps of the barbarian wanderers. Kallian here," the auctioneer pointed at the girl and he could not refrain from smirking while eyeing her up and down, "is skilled in the arts of herbalism, while her brother, Darrian, was once a member of the Antivan Crows."

Gasps rang in the crowd and he was able to see interested glances thrown towards the two elves' way. One of the magisters, a woman called Aurelia, seemed particularly interested. Not one of those who were intimidated easily, he though ruefully. No matter, he would outbid her.

"The auction starts at 10 gold coins for the pair… who offers 10 gold coins? Ah, the lovely Magister Aurelia. Does anyone offer 15? Magister Danarius… How about 20? Magister Aurelia again…"

The exchange went back and forth until the price reached 150 gold coins for the pair. At that point Aurelia huffed with indignation and stepped back allowing him to claim his reward. The assassin glanced at him sharply as if to assess his value… he would have put the slave in his place had he not known he was an Antivan Crow. No matter how powerful and careful you were, there was always ground for an Antivan to break through one's defences.

His sister, on the other hand, was fair game. There were ways to make one suffer without leaving signs and she appeared too frightened to actually whine about being treated unfairly. She had lived as a slave and servant, while her brother lived as a killer, therefore she knew her place. He stood up and left the marketplace, allowing the rest of the auction to end in peace. Many would be able to breathe in peace now that his little pet had left their shadows. He did not spare a second glance to the slaves he had bought that would be brought to his mansion tomorrow morning.

Had he looked behind him, he would have seen a pair of light brown eyes following his every moment with a calculated glance. The gaze that had formerly been meek and subdued had turned cold as ice… already a plan was forming in Kaelyn's mind. She had to find the antidote as soon as possible… she had only 26 days left.

Zevran also watched the magister as he departed from the pavilion… there was something odd about him, a cold edge that even his former employers did not have. This man was excited to see the pain and misery of others, he drew strength from it. He was the worst type of buyer they could have stumbled upon… the other Magister, Aurelia, was a harsh woman, there was no doubt about that. However, pity had sparkled in her eyes while looking at some of the slaves and she had fought hard to keep them away from Danarius' grasp.

As he turned around to glance at the marketplace once more, Fenris was shocked to see the brothers gazing in their direction. The two appeared to have become completely different people, such was the strength that lied in their eyes. Darrian had shed the aloof and haughtiness he had assumed during the auction and was now checking everything out with the careful eyes of a tactician. His sister, Kallian, on the other hand oozed so much confidence and strength that it was hard to think of her as the same person from the auction. He blinked and when he looked at them again, they had turned around and left with the Orlesian. Perhaps he had been imagining things…


	7. Day 4: Master

**A/N Here is the next chapter... So I must point out that I hate this chapter... it is almost useless and nothing really happens until the last lines of the story. Still it was necessary. Just to make it clear so it doesn't seem confusing... when they are retaining their slave persona they are Kallian and Darrian. Otherwise they are Zevran and Kaelyn. Disclaimer stands and hope you continue enjoying this story. Comments are always welcomed :D  
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><p>They had risen early that day… it was time to say goodbye to Leliana and assume their identities of Kallian and Darrian. The dingy inn where they had taken residence gave them some privacy and the Warden was able to exchange a few words with Leliana without worry. Zevran was already dressed in his dirty and used armor, twin knives residing on his back. His bow and arrows would also accompany them to Danarius.<p>

She on the other hand, had opted for a worn white tunic and black leggings. She missed her robes and her leather boots, but there was no way a slave could wear something like that. Their charade had to be complete. Leliana was wearing another Orlesian dress she had bought from the marketplace. It amazed Kaelyn how the bard could look even more beautiful when wearing a dress.

"I so wish you didn't have to do this, cherie," the bard said sadly, "I fear something bad is going to happen to you."

"It is the only way, unfortunately," the Warden sighed. "Leli, we are going to find the antidote, but the rest is up to you. You have to find out who wanted to murder the King and why. Tevintar has no dealings with Ferelden, they think of us of nothing more than barbarians. Why would they attack a country that had no relation whatsoever with theirs? You must infiltrate among these magisters, pretend to be horrified of going back home and find our answers. Hopefully we will learn the truth before the end of our 30 days."

There were no farewells between them, no goodbyes, because they were sure that once the 30 days were up they would meet once more in the same small inn and leave towards Ferelden with the antidote in their hands and the knowledge of who targeted King Alistair. The two elves quickly slipped in their slave personas just as the slavers came to take them to the mansion.

Danarius' manor was as grand as it was imposing. The courtyard was completely made of stone and marble, not one speck of green marred the whiteness of the surroundings. A huge fountain stood in its center, while next to it, on a huge column, the embalmed head of a dragon glared menacingly.

'The dragon I killed was bigger than this one,' Kaelyn found herself thinking, then promptly blushed. What was she doing, comparing dragon kills with a magister of the Imperium?

The inside of the manor was even grander than the outside. If the outside had been fashioned like a huge temple, the inside was fit for the castle of a King. Tapestries adorned the walls, velvet chairs and armchairs were set next to roaring fireplaces, huge tables made of solid oak fit to welcome dozens of men occupied the center of many rooms. The slavers took them directly to the magister's office where he was expecting them.

"Ah, I see you have brought my new pets," he smiled almost madly, "Very well. You may depart now." Danarius watched Kallian with a leering look and for a few moments the elf felt exposed, as is she was naked. The magister then turned his attention to Darrian who appear a bit subdued as compared to his expression at the auction. Still, the arrogance was still there… he was the best at his job and he knew it… "Ah, my personal assassin. I am a fortunate man…"

The magister rang a small silver bell and a young elf girl rushed in the room. She had a doll like appearance, with long blonde hair and icy blue eyes. Her belly was swollen, pointing to the fact that she was expecting, but whose child Kallian did not know.

"Flora, do no tarry so much," the magister snapped although the girl had arrived in the room within seconds.

"I am sorry, Master, so sorry," she sniveled, bowing her head and lowering her eyes in the ground. Kallian pitied her and the life she lead.

"Take the assassin to the former guard's room. It should be enough for him."

The girl nodded once more and left, Darrian following close by. The slavers too left and Kallian found herself alone with the magister who was once more eying her hungrily.

"Your former Mistress said you were trained with the Dalish and that you know herbalism. How good do you claim to be?"

"Mistress said I was very good," she said in a scared voice,"mistress asked me to prepare her medicine. Mistress said they were well made." Kallian started fidgeting nervously, clasping her hands together and unconsciously revealing the silver bracelet that adorned her wrist.

"What is that?" Danarius asked eyeing the bracelet with disdain. "Slaves are not allowed any personal properties, take it off!"

"I can't," she lowered her eyes to the ground and whispered with fear.

"What?" Danarius thundered. "You dare defy me?"

"No, Master," she sniveled and tugged at her bracelet, trying to get it off, "but it won't come off. Mistress put it there, said it was a symbol that I was her property. Mistress said only she could take it off, but Mistress died and the bracelet did not come off."

Danarius watched the elf tug at the bracelet relentlessly until the skin around it turned raw. He loved seeing their pain and suffering, he loved to toy with them and see the desperation in their eyes and the hope that flickered and died.

"Fenris," he called out calmly and waited. Kallian stopped her blubbering and watched in awe as another elf seemed to appear from the shadows. She was able to see him properly for the first time and noticed how much taller he was. His skin was very tan and braded with swirling white tattoos. He was clad wholly in a heavy armor and a huge, two handed sword was latched to his back. His green eyes appeared to be made of steel, such coldness lay in them.

"Take her to the slave's quarters," Danarius motioned dismissively towards Kallian. "I have no further use of her today."

"Come!" Fenris said sharply and strode out of the rood with Kallian hot on his tail. Now that she was out of the Magister's office, Kallian allowed her persona to slip a bit in order to study the man in front of her. The tattoos etched in his skin looked almost familiar, she was sure she had seen something similar in a book from the Circle Tower. They looked almost like…lyrium… she gasped out loud when she understood that was what they truly where…

"What?" Fenris turned around and glared at her with such ferocity that Kallian took a step back and started apologizing.

"I'm sorry, so sorry! Something startled me! Sorry!"

He turned around, no longer paying any attention to her and wondered who this slave truly was. At the auction, when she had been alone with her brother, she looked as she could tackle a High Dragon and emerge victorious. Here, she was a blubbering fool that was scared of her shadow. Who was the real one and who was the fake one?

He led her towards the ground floor where an almost hidden corridor stood. There Danarius had set up the slaves' quarters, a row of small, box-like rooms with only a small cot and a worn blanket. Kallian stepped in the room, keeping her eyes lowered firmly in the ground. Fenris merely grunted at her and said:

"Your Master will call for you when he has need of you. Until there you are to remain here and make yourself unseen."

"He is as much my Master as he is yours," she said quietly startling Fenris. He looked at her trying to understand the meaning of her words. Was she acknowledging her slavery? No, he understood shocked. She was pointing out something else, something that was too terrifying to admit. And if he was right, she was stronger than him. He left the room fast, not bothering to glance back at her.

Kallian smirked to herself… you do not need more than a few words to plant the seeds of doubt and she had done that. Settling herself on the cot, she reached in her worn up boot and removed a small dagger, the same she had used for the ritual. A few drops of blood had dried on it, but otherwise it looked untouched.

'I am Kaelyn Surana, Grey Warden and Chancellor of Ferelden. I am here to help my friend, Alistair Theirin, King of Ferelden. I will not lose myself nor will I succumb to this life,' she thought to herself, starting a mantra that would sustain her in the days to come.

"_In War_, _Victory_. _In Peace, Vigilance. In Death_, _Sacrifice,_" she muttered to herself and set herself on the small cot remembering all she knew about herbs.


	8. Day 5: Information

**A/N This chapter is about Leliana... it is this short due to a reason, more exactly because her findings will only be revealed at the end of the story and so far these part only outline her methods. In the end her whole story will be told and the mystery attacker will be revealed. Until then here is day 5 of the story. Hope you enjoy the story so far. Disclaimer stands!**

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><p>The only green place in Minrathous was the central garden where the Magisters and the people from the nobility gathered to discuss politics, philosophy and the current occurrences in Thedas. Slaves stood behind these important people, ready to obey their very whim, punished most severely when they made a mistake.<p>

That particular day a stranger had appeared in their midst… the stranger had medium long red hair curled briefly at the tips and beautiful blue eyes framed by thick eyelashes that held an arrogant look in them. Her head was held high and she gazed around her with a hint of mocking amusement. She wore a long, red gown woven with golden thread. The sleeves ended with ivory frills that framed her thin wrists gracefully. Everything about her posture seemed to scream blue blood as she made her way through the garden and gingerly sit on a chair, a young elven boy setting himself behind her.

"C'est un tres belle, jardin. Ne pensez tu pas ainsi?" she drawled to her servant in perfect Orlesian and all the female nobles around her threw the woman envious, but also curious looks.

"Bien sûr, Madame,'' the servant boy behind her answered rapidly.

"Welcome to the Gardens of Meditation, my lady," a magister came forth to greet her. The woman had richly adorned robes, pointing to her higher position in the hierarchy. Her posture was stiff and stern, but her greeting had appeared to be genuine. "Rarely do we have Orlesian nobles join us here. I am Magister Lavinia."

"It iz a pleasure to visit 'ur beautiful city," she drawled again, "Of course, Val Royeux is much more beautiful."

"I believe I saw you at the auction the other days," another magister interfered, this time a male one who wanted to seem important in the lady's eyes."Were you perhaps interested in acquiring a new slave?"

"Oh, no, no, no," she shook her head and her hair moved daintily on her shoulders, "I was selling my maman's zlaves. 'orrid things they were, had none of the Orlesian charm my Louis has," here she tilted her head softly towards the elf boy standing behind her, "'orrid little brutes. Fereldens!"

The woman sniffed as if affected and the magisters all started gushing, approving how barbaric the Fereldan nation was and how the world would be better off without them. The conversation began having historic connotations and everyone started talking about the Orlesian occupation and how Ferelden had thrived under proper care. Then they talked about "that bastard wanna-be King Maric, the son of that murderous princess", which gave the red haired woman the perfect opportunity to turn the subject in the direction she desired.

" 'ave you 'eard what 'appened to that traitor's son... their beloved King Alistair?"

It was the exact start the red haired woman needed... soon they would be pouring information left and right. Throughout it all she would be able to find out exactly what she needs and hopefully even catch the culprit before the days were had the perfect grasp of her role... bard, Chantry sister, rogue, lady... no matter who she was, every time she got people to blindly trust her. But woe upon those who had put her friends in danger, because she would find them no matter where they hid.


	9. Day 6: Herbs

**A/N I'm behind with my word count on NaNoWriMo. Which is bad... bad, bad,bad! I blame university fort this. Anyway, here is the next chapter where we return at Surana and Zevran. Hope you enjoy this story. Disclaimer stands!**

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><p>A whole day had passed since she had been left alone in the room by Danarius' guard, Fenris. The room was small and cramped, but much better than a tent on the road. Her persona had slipped many times in her solitude and she felt herself reverting to Kaelyn whenever she was sure it was safe to do so. She started thinking about Nate whom she had not announced of her departure, even though he was her friend and Commander, of Leliana who had the difficult task of maintaining the facade among the magisters, of Anora who had looked so tired and worn up at the last Landsmeet and of Alistair who was kept alive only by her spells.<p>

When night came and the darkness descended on the room, the walls appeared to be closing down on her. She could not help but remember the cold days in the Circle Tower down in the dungeons where the stillness of the room seemed to press down upon her. They all thought she had been Irving's favourite, his pet, but they had failed to understand that this exact thing made her the mark of Templars. If Irving chose a mage to hold under his wing then that mage had to be strong and strong mages were dangerous... so they told her every night they threw her down in the dungeons when they found her alone in the library studying yet another tome of spells.

Sometimes Anders was there and he used to make a joke or two, cheering her up... most often than not she was alone and she shivered in the dark listening intently to the clank of armour. Sometimes they smote her for fun... other times, when she fought back the punishments were more severe. No one ever wondered why she was not in her dorm during those nights. Nobody really cared except Anders and he had his own problems to think about.

When she had left the Tower with Duncan, when she no longer had to fear the clank of Templar armour she had nearly wept in relief. She spent the whole road towards Ostagar sleeping on the hard ground, not even trusting the confinement a tent gave her. After that war started and she no longer had the luxury of thinking about the past. She had to fight to stay alive... they slept where they could, how they could, always fearing a darkspawn attack that many times took place by the time dawn broke.

Now, trapped in the small room, she understood that she was once again at someone else's mercy as she had been in the past. Still, this time she had the power to shape her own destiny. This time she would fight hard to achieve her goal and leave this accursed city as soon as she could. She had not slept at all thinking about all this so, in the morning, when Fenris came after her, she was wide awake. The sound of his armour alerted her of his presence before he even arrived in the doorstep.

"Good, you are awake!" he said coldly, making Kallian look in his eyes and wonder how she had ever offended him. "You are to follow me in the wilds and gather herbs. Your brother is to join us as well."

Kallian merely nodded and stepped behind Fenris waiting for him to show her the way. On their way outside the mansion Darrian joined them together with what appeared to be one of Danarius' guards. She merely glanced at him fearfully and lowered her eyes in the ground while she scooted closer to her brother.

'Wouldn't want our property running away, would we, Danarius?' she thought ruefully to herself.

The road was enveloped in silence... she had been given a list with all the herbs Danarius wanted her to find, but apart from that Fenris did not address them in any way. Once or twice the warrior glared viciously in the guard's direction, but the man simply sneered and grasped the hilt of his sword tighter. Darrian had his bow prepared, while his daggers were placed on his back. Kallian walked slowly, wishing she had been allowed to carry a weapon. Her small dagger lay in her glove, but it was hard to grab and did not do much damage anyway.

Everything surrounding Minrathous was wild and untouched... trees where bent at weird angles and their roots twisted out of the ground. The grass grew tall, coming up to Kallian's ankles, almost tripping her as she walked. The branches of the trees creaked ominously as they passed and the two brothers shot almost knowing glances in their directions. Somewhere, in the distance, a soft river flew, its clear sound ringing in their direction.

"Halt!" the guard grumbled once they reached a meadow that was easy to supervise. "It is far enough! Start looking for those herbs, wench," he leered in her direction and Kallian flinched back violently. Putting as much distance as she could between herself and the guard she started looking for the herbs she had received on the list.

"Deathroot, elfroot ..." she muttered to herself as she started searching for all the ingredients on her list. There were many of them and some were hard to gather without proper equipment, but she knew for certain that she had to pass this test successfully unless she wanted to feel the wrath of the magister.

Hours passed in the same silence they had started. Kallian was the only one moving around, gathering all the necessary herb in a small wicker basket, while the others stood guard. Every now and then the guard would throw a leering look, but she would ignore him, and continue her work. She tried remembering all the lessons the poor Senior Enchanters had tried to drill into her while she was in the Circle Tower. Unfortunately herbalism had never been her strong point and she was fighting hard to remember all the rules of collecting herbs without damaging them.

Darrian was watching her all the time, trying to ignore the other elf and the guard. He found himself wondering when they would actively start their plan. He did not care much about him, his position was secured due to being an Antivan Crow, but he found himself concerned about Kallian. Although she was a great actress, her rash nature and kind spirit would be the end of her.

Leaning on a winding willow, Fenris was frowning at his surroundings. An alarm bell was ringing in his ears; he felt something was bound to go wrong. Even though they were armed and the wilds were not usually threaded by bandits, he could not shake the ominous feeling away. Plus, in case of a fight, they had a liability with them. The apothecary Danarius had purchased proved to be yet another blubbering idiot that grovelled at the feet of those stronger than her and flinched from any signs of danger. He did not know what possessed him to think that she would be different. He must have been mistaking that day, after the auction, when he had believed he spotted something in the girl's eyes.

Lost in thought as they were, they did not hear the bandits that had been stealthily approaching their target. Being three elves alone in the wilds, with only a guard as protection marked them as easy targets no matter who their owner was. For the bandits the problem was not who their master was, but rather how they could neutralize the guard fast and swift. Two of the elves were armed, but nobody really paid any heed to armed elves. They were like children playing with toy swords... The bandits were about ten, so masking their presence for long would be hard. All they needed was the perfect opportunity...

Suddenly the guard turned his attention to the elf girl who had started straying from the meadow in order to collect a particularly tricky plant... he moved three steps exposing his back to the assailants. The leader of the bandits smirked as he placed the arrow in his bow and aimed towards the guard. With a movement the arrow flew and imbedded itself in the guard's back. Watching him stagger and fall, the bandits smirked and with a cry of victory they entered the meadow surrounding the three elves.

However, instead of cries of mercy and shrieks they were met with cold looks and stern postures. Kallian dropped her wicker basket next to a tree and moved closer to her brother, her head raised high in defiance, a small smirk playing on her lips.

"Well, well, boys, it seems, our new toys are expecting to fight against us," the leader of the bandits mocked them. "Such clever toys they know how to fight."

Fenris readied his two handed sword and brought it forth, a smirk dancing on his features. He may have been unable to escape Danarius' clutches, but he was glad to be able to rid Thedas of more slavers. That meant others would not suffer the same fate as Flora, Kallian and Danarius's other slaves. He glanced in surprise when he saw Kallian reach out to her brother. The assassin nodded in understanding and handed her a spare dagger.

"It would have been better if you had two," she pointed out.

"Ay, bella, unfortunately I was not expecting such a lovely encounter today," the Antivan laughed. "Shall we dance, hermana?"

Determination flared in her eyes as she took into account those surrounding them. The bandits got closer and closer, charging at the same time. Kallian leaped from her place just as one's sword fell, dancing around him with deadly grace and plunging the dagger in his chest. Twirling around she faced another assailant whose sword clashed with her much smaller weapon. The man's shield clashed in her arm, pushing her back and she staggered, but did not fall. She ducked when his sword almost slashed her arm and ducked again when he tried to use his shield as a weapon against her. Putting as much distance as she could behind them, she brought her dagger forth again, colliding with his sword, while she deftly manoeuvred the smaller dagger, bringing it in her hand. He did not see the concealed weapon until it was too late and she had managed to plunge it in his neck. The man fell, a fountain of blood pouring from the artery that had been hit.

Darrian had his twin daggers in his hands and was slashing left and right with the experience of a trained rogue. He was battling two of the bandits at the same time, but they were ruffians, sloppy and untrained. With a smile, he plunged one dagger into a man's stomach, while pushing the other one to the ground at the same time. Mercilessly the second dagger was thrown at another bandit that was sneaking up at him, hitting him in the eye. The man that had fallen rose to his feet... his last mistake as it was later proved when Darrian slashed his neck open.

Fenris' greatsword cleaved the bandits in two, striking left and right, leaving only a pile of bodies in his path. He watched in surprise with how much experience Kallian wielded her dagger, but he was unable to keep his focus on her. As soon as his last opponent lay dead on the ground he allowed himself to relax his hold on the sword and place it in front of him. He did not notice the last bandit coming close to him, sword raised high until a silver dagger flashed in front of his eyes and reached behind him, hitting the bandit in the chest. Though not wounded mortally, the bandit staggered on his feet giving Fenris the opportunity to finish him off. He glanced in surprise at Kallian who stood weaponless on the field with an eyebrow raised him. Who was she?

Darrian moved to the fallen guard and swiftly checked his pulse, before chuckling ruefully to himself as the man groaned.

"The man is not injured gravely, merely knocked out."

"We should take him back," Kallian pointed out. "Here in the Wilds, the smell of blood will only attract predators. I wouldn't wish such a death to anyone.

They returned in silence... more than once Fenris stopped and wondered why he had not used the opportunity to run, why had she not used the opportunity to run. They were alone in the wilds, unchecked. His logic part said that they would have been unable to get far with no money and no resources whatsoever... however his other side screamed to use the opportunity, to flee and leave Minrathous as far away as he could.

Kallian seemed to have returned to her former self soon after she returned the blade to her brother. She walked behind them, in silence, the wicker basket dangling on her arm. Unknown to him, the small dagger she had used had been put back in her glove. Fresh blood stained it now, blood that started singing louder and louder to her with each passing day. Glancing at the skies Kallian begged the Maker to help them find the antidote swiftly otherwise she did not know how she would resist the call of the Fade and the power of the spell.


	10. Day 7: Guardian

**A/N Phew, finally had some time to update. The story is actually much longer than I managed to post here, but between uni and NaNo I don't have the time to add the chapter on ff as frequently as I'd like. Anyway here is the next chapter and I hope you enjoy it. Please review! Disclaimer as usual, stands.  
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><p>Seeing that his pets had returned by themselves even with the guard injured gave Danarius a new sense of curiosity. He wanted to see what they did when he threw them together, wanted to test their reactions and learn how to exploit these new weaknesses they developed. It would be interesting to see if he could managed to manipulate his little wolf in ways he had not tried before... using his emotions. Very interesting indeed...<p>

Since their adventure with the bandits in the woods, Kallian had not been asked to gather more herbs. A mage had arrived to take them, a woman whose name was Hadriana, she later learned, and after deeming them adequate she ordered Kallian to head towards the smallest laboratory, the one nearest to the slaves' quarters and start preparing the herbs. The actual preparation was more complicated then gathering them because one needed to know what tools to use in order not to sever their magical powers. Some plants were diced with a silver knife, while others had to be minced with a copper blade. In order to be more potent one had to study their properties and learn in which ways to prepare them best.

Kallian had remained long hours in the laboratory under Hadriana's supervision until the woman was certain she knew how to prepare the herbs. Afterwards Fenris had taken her place and he stood, glowering in the doorframe, looking as if he blamed her for something she did not know. A whole day had passed in a similar fashion until Kallian had enough and broke the icy silence that had descended upon them.

"You do not need to remain here if my presence is so dreadful to you," she pointed out in a bitter tone. "I will not run nor will I abandon my work to go somewhere else, of that I assure you.

He seemed to measure her with his glacier look and she sighed... it appeared that even trying to be civil to the warrior ended badly. She had no idea how she had wronged him so, but she was not going to go mending fences with a person she had barely met.

"I do not understand you..." Fenris finally broke the silence and pointed out coldly. "Yesterday you had the perfect opportunity to take your brother and flee. Yet, you chose to save the man who had treated you lower than dirt and return in the hands of your captors. Why is it so?"

"Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just. Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow," she chanted softly under her breath. "Is this not what the Chant of Light teaches the faithful? Who am I to decide who deserves life and who deserves death? Threaten me and I shall fight back. However, I could not allow a man to die for a few wrong glances and a conviction that has been drilled into him since he was born," she stopped talking and started cutting a root, before adding, "As for running, where would I go? Back in the hands of the slavers? In the hands of another Master? 'tis merely a vicious circle without end."

Yet again silence fell upon the two of them... this time Kallian chose not to speak and made sure to concentrate only on her herbs. She remembered another person who had asked her a similar question when she was given leave to go with Wynne and gather herbs.

_"You can run away, Kaelyn... escape, get away from this damned tower."_

Both of them were in the dungeons... he after another failed escape and she because she had once more been caught out of curfew and she threw them a snide remark. She had been mad at that time, screamed and threatened, managing only to receive a few welts before being thrown in the hard, stone cell.

_"And go where, Anders? They have my phylactery..."_

At that time she would have run away... one time she even entertained the idea of joining him in one of his escapades, but the fear of what would happen should she be found kept her back. Now, she had voluntarily entered slavery.

'It's only to save Alistair. Then I'll leave and never return in this accursed land.'

"Why do you act like you do?" Fenris asked again, this time with less disdain in his voice. An elf capable of defending herself with weapons yet cringing at the slightest noise... "You lower your eyes in the ground, you cringe when someone talks louder yet you have no qualms of plunging a dagger in a man's heart."

"Can you not guess?" she smirked and he raised an eyebrow in surprise. ""Knowing one's enemy is half the battle. Why should I reveal myself to people I do not trust or care about? To people that I consider my enemies? You do not need to be a mage in order to inflict pain upon others. My first masters where not mages, yet they went out of their way to make my life a living nightmare."

She closed her eyes, willing away the image that still haunt some of her nights. The cries and the curses of the mages that were thrown over the edge followed her still. The pleas of the children that were taken from their parents' arms and thrown into nothing more than a gilded cage still followed her anywhere she went. And those that gave up and ended it all... a rope, a knife or a jump and the pain was over.

"Where did you learn to wield a dagger like that?" Fenris changed the subject and asked. He had been so busy channelling his hatred towards Magisters that he did not stop to think that magicless owners might be just as gruesome to their slaves as the Magisters.

"I was raised in a Dalish clan. My mother was Dalish, but she passed away when Darrian and I were small children, killed by a human. Later we were captured by humans when we strayed from our camp, but by then we had learned how to use a weapon effectively. In the camp everyone learns how to fight in order to be able to protect the others."

"Why is your brother no longer among the Antivan Crows? I did not believe they let go of their men unless they died."

"Or failed..." Kallian said simply. "My brother flunked one of his contracts. The Crows were determined to get rid of him, but my Mistress had other plans for him so she saved him."

_"Well, I just wanted to report that I failed my mission, Loghain. I'm terribly broken up over it."_

She smiled to herself remembering how serious he had been when he reported the failure of the mission. Loghain had been ever more serious...

_"Hmm. Well thank you kindly for informing me."_

"Why didn't you run away?" Kallian asked. "The same opportunity presented itself to you as it did to me. Why did you not take advantage of it? I cannot believe it gives you any satisfaction to remain here as Danarius' parade horse."

He would have snarled at her in fury for the comparison had she not uttered Danarius' name so casually. There was no way this woman was merely a slave. Her whole mentality pointed at something else and she had no fear of the man who held her captive. Fenris truly believed that given the opportunity and a reason she would run away and never look back.

"The timing was not opportune yet... " he answered simply.

The rest of the day passed in silence... when night fell Kallian returned to her room. Dropping on her small cot she wondered what make her try and speak to Fenris. She was here to make sure neither her nor Alistair died, then why did she care what happened to others? Images from the time of the Blight flashed through her mind... Dagna... Jowan... the baby in the Slums... the smith from Redcliffe... Gheyna and her young hunter...

It was simply who she was...


	11. Day 8: Hadriana

**A/N Woot, managed to update two chapters in a row. Maybe not all is lost :D. At NaNoWriMo I'm currently at 23k which is promising enough as far as I'm concerned. I may even be able to finish in time :). You know the disclaimer! Please review :D.**

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><p>She had not managed to see Darrian in two days... she did not know where he was or what he was doing. He was probably on some errands from Danarius as she was. She knew he was fully able to take care of himself, but she could not help worrying that someone from his past might see him and a fight would ensure. A fight that would, most likely, end badly for the other side, she mused to herself.<p>

Since her talk with Fenris she had not seen him anymore. Her work was now being supervised by Hadriana and the woman was, incredibly enough, not the cold hearted wench other slaves painted her as. She had not really met the others, but she had heard them talking to themselves when they believed no one was listening just to get silence when footsteps echoed on the corridor. Between her and the mage's apprentice there seemed to be an unspoken understanding. As soon as she did her work right there would be no harping on Hadriana's part. Kallian believed the woman was not as cold as she wanted to seem. Still, there was something that was driving her, something that was moulding her into a person that became more and more like Danarius with each passing day.

They were in the bigger laboratory this time, the one that belonged to Hadriana, where she studied and practiced in order to follow in Danarius' footsteps at one point. More herbs and crafting materials had been brought and Kallian was working hard in order to prepare them. Her hands were cut in many places and her fingers blistered, but she paid no attention to them. She had been through worse...

As usual she could not stop wondering back in the past remembering bits and pieces that had no place in the life of the slave Kallian.

Morrigan was the herbalist... Wynne was the healer... she was the one who kicked everyone's butts as Alistair used to joke. She had always been bad at healing, it simply didn't come to her as naturally as wielding the elements did. Sure she could cast minor healing spells, but she was nowhere close to Wynne's level of power. Ice was easy, it was simply frozen water, but it was the fire she loved... fire was part of her and she used it every time she could. Anders was the one who fought to get away... she was the one who fought to remain in the Keep and make _their _lives miserable. Ice dripped on the staircases that made them tumbled down a whole flight of stairs... small fires lit in the kitchens that had the cooks running away in fear... a zap of electricity when she was certain she would not get caught...

Sometimes they caught her... when they did it meant beatings and being thrown into the dungeons. But after the first time they started picking on her because she was Irving's protégée she started fighting back in the only way she could. Helping Jowan escape was another act of rebellion on her part... she did it for him and for herself to make sure they did not keep enslaved yet another mage.

"What is that?" she heard Hadriana hiss and was woken out of her musings. She glanced at her wrist and noticed that when she had stretched forward to grab a new flask, her sleeves moved and her bracelet got revealed. She had made sure to keep it hidden after the whole ordeal with Danarius...

"A bracelet," she made sure to have her voice quiver a bit, but unfortunately Hadriana was not fooled.

"I've seen those before, drawn in a book about the Circle of Magi from Nevarra. A runaway apostate recalled they were being used there. This is not a mere bracelet. It is a cuff of binding. It used to be an item the Templars used there to bind the magic of young mages until they were brought to the Circle. You are a mage!"

"A few unfortunate events led to me wearing this bracelet," Kallian said casually, as if discussing the weather. "My former mistress had a weird sense of humour." She tugged on the bracelet a bit, revealing the raw skin under the silver of the trinket.

Hadriana looked at the slave with uncertainty and curiosity in her eyes... there was something odd about Kallian, something she had not noticed before. It was as if she had shed a mask and what remained behind was close to the truth. Hadriana knew without a doubt she was lying...

"You lie," she spat. "Nobody cuffed you that way. The fact that the bracelet even moved a bit when you tugged on it proves that it was you who put it there."

An almost sinister smile appeared on Kallian's face and the mage removed the bracelet, twirling it softly between her fingers. A soft light glowed from her fingers and the rash disappeared in mere moments. However, what fascinated and even frightened Hadriana was the utter calm with which the elf revealed herself. She was confident that she had nothing to worry about... she had the strength and the power to leave this place anytime she wanted. It simply did not suit her purposes to leave yet.

"And what will you do with that knowledge, Hadriana? Tell the magister? You have no way of proving it and nobody can remove the bracelet unless I wish it. You will simply appear a fool. But, please, tell him, try to ruin my plans… I had people stronger than you who tried to interfere in my affairs. It always ended badly for them…" Kallian said in a whisper, sending chills down Hadriana's spine. She admired the not-exactly slave she saw in front of her, therefore she allowed a tiny smirk to grace her features.

"Why should I care?" Hadriana pointed out, "It is the same to me whether you are the First Enchanter of the Circle of Nevarra in hiding or a mere apostate caught in an unlikely place. As long as you are able to work diligently and prepare those ingredients, I care not. I hold no loyalty to Danarius, he is simply my teacher, I am not required to report every move to him. If he did not notice, then how could I, a lonely apprentice, figure out something of this magnitude?"

Kallian laughed out loud and place the bracelet back on her wrist... so it was true what they said that not even Danarius' apprentice cared about him. The Magister could die and the whole of Minrathous would rejoice. This also meant that not all was lost for Hadriana...

"When you become a magister remember your thoughts regarding Danarius," Kallian told her with a soft smile and returned to her ingredients, ready to prepare one of the poisons Danarius needed.

Hadriana watched the mage-in-hiding work in silence and wondered whether she was an apostate as she believed or whether a Circle had once held her bound. She was either very strong or very focused in order to keep her powers under control and not allow the bind to harm her, only restrain her as it did.

"Were you once in a Circle?" the mage could not help her curiosity and asked with a little trepidation in her voice. What answer was she looking for? That the elf standing in front of her that seemed so sure of herself had always been free? Or that she was bound and caged like the rest of them, including the apprentices of Magisters.

"Yes, once I was in a Circle Tower. Four years have passed since then and they no longer hold any control over me."

So she was free then... but was it truly freedom or was it a larger cage that stretched and stretched. A cage that was beautiful and vast, but still had its bars somewhere at the horizon? Circle Mages were locked in Towers, apostates were always on the run, living from one day to the other and Magisters were bound by contracts signed with demons. In that moment Hadriana realized that she did not want any of those lives...


	12. Day 9: Target

**A/N Amazingly enough I managed to update again in the span of two days. If I manage to write two more chapters today I'll be able to brag about being ahead of schedule at NaNo. Thank you to everyone who put my story on their alert list. I hope this means you still find it interesting. Here is the next chapter! Enjoy and check out the disclaimer on the first chapters.  
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><p>It's been days and the only thing he had been able to do was pursue Danarius' unfortunate targets and do away with them. He had hoped he had left his past behind, but once more it came back to haunt him. This time, however, it came in handy as it allowed him to aid those he was indebted to. He had had three targets so far: a plump merchant that had tried to sell the Magister forged goods, another Magister that was for some unknown reason a pain for Danarius and one of Magister Aurelia's slaves.<p>

Every Antivan Crow was given his personal exception… Taliesin never killed elderly people, out of commodity if nothing else. He believed there was no reason to kill someone that may very well meet his end the next day due to a stroke. Vincento never accepted contracts that involved women… he was a sucker for long eyelashes and tears. He never killed children… he had never explained his reason for choosing this exception, but it was simply who he was.

When Rinna died he had been so eager to find his end as well… he knew full well what he was getting into when he accepted the Ferelden contract. Killing a Grey Warden… it was pure madness, yet he had eagerly signed up for it. Of course, as anyone would have expected, he lost… truly how did one kill someone who made it out of a zone overrun by darkspawn alive and who managed to free an entire village of undead monsters?

_"You must think I'm royally stupid."_

That's what she had said then and it made him think whether it wouldn't be better if he gave up and allowed her to kill him. Still, he wanted to live and be free of the Crows' shadow. He chose to bind herself to her, even if it meant his own death by a darkspawn blade.

_"I think you're royally tough to kill. And utterly gorgeous. Not that I think you'll respond to simple flattery. But there are worse things in life than serving the whims of a deadly sex goddess."_

It had made her laugh and he knew he had won... after all, before him she had recruited an apostate from the swamps, a Chantry sister who believed the Maker talked to her and a murderous Qunari. Surely he was not the odd one it their party...

In order to thank her for allowing him to live, he had followed her everywhere she went... to the Urn of Sacred Ashes, to Orzammar, to the Dalish Camp and inside the Circle Tower overrun by abominations. He lived through all that therefore he was confident a mere Magister would not be the end of him.

As he walked down the corridors of the imposing mansion, making sure nobody saw him, he wondered where the precious antidote could be found. It was almost certain that magic was used to protect it, but until Kallian's powers could be used he had to locate the vial. He was looking for a door that would be locked carefully, not flimsy like the other ones. He gave up on the first floor from the beginning seeing that all doors were wide open and slaves were running here and there cleaning the rooms up.

The second floor proved to be trickier. Danarius's guards prowled around and he had to make sure they did not catch him. He managed to unlock a huge library that was filled to the brim with ancient books of magic and history, but did not seem to hide anything else. Another room was a lavish bedroom, with a four poster bed bearing crimson curtains around it. There were velvet chairs and armchairs near a fireplace. Nothing else could be seen in the room and he quickly dismissed it as well. Other rooms appeared to be guest rooms of some sort, laboratories and even a meeting chamber, but their locks had been easy to break and he had left them in peace.

The third floor proved to be the trickiest. He had barely made a few steps on the corridor when a blue shield flared in front of his eyes, making him unable to go any further. Glancing at the long corridor he saw three rooms that were locked with heavy, brass locks and appeared to be surrounded by a shimmering light as well. Probably a magic barrier of some sorts... To the left, a smaller door was ajar revealing a flight of narrow stairs that seemed to be going up, towards the attic. Even though the corridor was well lit, the small staircase seemed to be shrouded in darkness making him wonder what exactly was kept up there.

Understanding that there was nothing else he could do, he left the third floor behind him and made his way to his own quarters glad that at least he knew where the antidote might be kept. Rumours had it that Danarius would be leaving in three days' time therefore the perfect opportunity would present itself for them to try and find out whether the antidote was kept in the small attic or one of the locked rooms.

He wondered where Kallian was and what was she doing... preparing ingredients yet again? It seemed such a futile task for her and he knew that she was aching to leave this place. Yet, there was something else about her, something that was troubling her. He knew she was worried about Alistair, but it appeared she did not fear they would fail him, but rather that something else would happen... something more tragic.

He missed the times when everything was simple... kill darkspawn, run from Loghain, kill more darkspawn, help others, behead trolls, escape from Fort Drakon and go back to killing darkspawn. Those were truly wondrous times...

_"We all do our share of murdering around here, don't we?"_

When he had asked her this, she was busy cutting down a Hurlock on the road to Denerim. She nodded and said the only difference was that she chose who to do the murdering on. Now he found himself wondering whether they would be able to escape Tevinter without actually doing the whole murdering thing.


	13. Day 10: Discussion

**A/N As mentioned before Leliana's chapters will always be very short... everything she found out will be revealed by the end and I also believe I'll write a sequel where they even catch the culprit. But until then I have 20 more chapters to go...Disclaimer stands.  
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><p>For days the bard had returned to the gardens in the centre of Minrathous in order to learn more about the assassination attempt that had taken place in Ferelden. Unfortunately for her, the magisters were extremely tight-lipped, even though she raved and ranted against Ferelden. She knew one of them had been behind the whole situation, she could see their glee in their eyes. She even suspected someone, but she had to be sure before moving to the next step of her plan.<p>

_"Why would Empress Celene even think of allying herself with those barbarians?" she had sniffed at one point, watching as their faces turned from cautious to smug._

_"Well, my lady," one of them had said, "It should worry you no longer. If they have not managed to defeat the poison by now, it is doubtful they will. All the better for Tevinter, the last we need is those barbarians becoming more full of themselves."_

She could almost laugh... their problem was not Ferelden, their problem was Orlais. They did not wish Orlais and the Chantry to have more backing up and with Ferelden in an alliance to the country where she grew up in, Tevinter would not be extremely thrilled. They did not know that Alistair did not even want to think of an alliance with Orlais, they did not know that all the hard work he had invested in granting the Circle Tower autonomy would go down the drain if the Chantry became even more powerful in Ferelden.

_"I heard the King offended one of the magisters that's why he was poisoned," she purred and saw the mask they all wore to calm the shock of her statement._

_"Impossible," an elderly Magister huffed in annoyance, "No one would blatantly attack a monarch's country in such a fashion. The move would be made more stealthily. I for one, would have hired an Antivan Crow."_

The bard giggled... Antivan Crows were so overrated. They had the perfect example in their party... after flunking his contract, Zevran had made sure to return to Antiva and make sure none of his former colleagues ever came after him.

_"But surely poison would act more swiftly..." the bard pointed out, "unless they find the Urn of Sacred Ashes the King will die."_

_"Urn of Sacred Ashes?" Magister Aurelia snorted, "An old wives' tale. Such a thing is only a fantasy. The only thing that could cure him is an antidote and unless they found it already, they never will."_

Of, but they will, the bard was sure of it. And when their task would be complete, after the King would recover she would ask unmask the culprit for she already knew that not only Tevinter was to blame in this whole situation, but Ferelden as well. She had just found out that members of the two countries had worked hand in hand to assassinate the King... it was just a matter of days until she would reveal them.

As she headed to have tea with one of the magisters, Leliana smiled to herself... just a matter of time...


	14. Day 11: Flora

**A/N Another update, yey. I'm up to date with my chapters, meaning I have everything written up until day 14 and will try to post the other chapters tomorrow. Now it's too late and I didn't even managed to proof read this one. Enjoy and review! *points to Disclaimer*  
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><p>The other day the skin on her fingers cracked and her numerous cuts opened again and started bleeding. She had been preparing herbs relentlessly for several days now and today Hadriana had announced her that her work was finished for now. More herbs would be brought in a few days and until then she had to make herself unseen as she had done before the whole affair with the bandits.<p>

As she walked towards her room, she decided that she would take that accursed bracelet off and use her magic to find her way towards Darrian's room and maybe even search the mansion for the antidote. She needed to rest first, but afterwards she was determined to actually start her mission.

Kallian would never have imagined that she would enter her room and see a sobbing elf slave on her small cot, hiding under the flimsy blanket they had all been given. She recognized the girl as being the one Danarius has snarled at in their first day there... Flora... The girl was crying in silence, trying to muffle her sobs with the pillow, unaware that someone had entered the small box-like room.

"Hey, there, it's all right," Kallian cooed softly and approached the girl, patting her softly on the shoulder. "All this crying can't be good for you or your baby."

The elf raised her tear stained eyes from the pillow and gazed at Kallian, hiccupping softly. It appeared that the worst of her sobbing phase had passed because she wiped her eyes with her sleeves and nodded softly.

"I know... it's just... I can't take this anymore. Sometimes I think it would be better to end it all..."

"Don't say that," Kallian answered and her voice quivered remembering times when she had thought the same thing. Yet, she had been too much of a fighter to give up and go away quietly. "Even the darkest moments pass. You're alive and you have a child to look forward to."

"He's the Master's child..." she said softly and looked away in shame. Kallian seethed to herself, but did not allow her anger to show. How similar these elves were to the mages in the Tower...

"He is your child and yours alone," she said forcefully and Flora looked up in surprise, "I does not matter who sired him, but who loves him and I am sure you do. The Master has no claim over your child whatsoever. Come now, forget whatever troubled you so... you are welcomed to stay here as long as you like."

The poor girl was shivering like a leaf in the wind and Kallian felt sad seeing her so distraught. She was younger than her, almost a child still... Thinking back to the nights in camp when they were frozen and shivering, dreading the night and equally so the day, she remembered Leliana and her beautiful stories who touched all of them.

"Did you know storytelling is the best cure against fear and sadness? Come, I shall tell you a story. My mistress used to have me tell her stories late at night when she could not sleep."

"I haven't heard a story since I was a small child," Flora said with interest leaking in her voice.

"Have you heard of Grey Wardens?" Kallian smiled at her.

"Oh, yes, maman used to tell me about them. They were an order who fought against the darkspawn in order to defeat the Blights."

She smiled and thought back to the time of her own joining, remembering the words Duncan spoke to them before drinking the darkspawn blood.

_"The Chantry teaches us that it is the hubris of men which brought the darkspawn into our world. The mages had sought to usurp Heaven. But instead, they destroyed it. They were cast out, twisted and cursed by their own corruption. They returned as monsters, the first of the darkspawn. They became a blight upon the lands, unstoppable and relentless. The dwarven kingdoms were the first to fall. And from the deep roads, the darkspawn drove at us again and again, until finally we neared annihilation... until the Grey Wardens came. Men and women from every race, warriors and mages, barbarians and kings, the Grey Wardens sacrificed everything to stem the tide of darkness, and prevailed. It has been four centuries since that victory, and we have kept our vigil. We have watched and waited for the darkspawn to return. But those, who once called us heroes, have forgotten. We are few now, and our warnings have been ignored for too long"_

What he had said was so true... they barely managed to make it. Had they failed the Blight would have run rampant, turning all of Ferelden into ash and stretching towards the rest of Thedas. Villages would have burned, cities would have perished just as Lothering did... just as Amaranthine almost did...

A clank of armour broke her out of her thoughts and she turned in surprise to see Fenris and her brother in the doorstep. The warrior elf had his trademark scowl on his face, but appeared genuinely interested in her tale. Darrian was simply smirking knowingly...

"Do you know more of the Fifth Blight?" Fenris asked and seeing her nod, continued, "Will you tell us more about it? The news that reaches Tevinter is hardly reliable."

For a moment everything felt foolish... they were slaves caught in a Magister's mansion with no hope of escaping without resorting to bloodshed. Yet, as they stood in the small, cramped room, she could not help but think that maybe her stories would help Flora overcome whatever terror drove her to flee from her room.

"The Fifth Blight did not start with the Hero of Ferelden... it did not start with King Alistair or Sister Leliana... it started with a man called Duncan. As a young man he was conscripted to the Grey Wardens and rose in their ranks becoming the Commander of the Grey when the Fifth Blight broke over the land. He was one of the first Wardens to be allowed back in Ferelden after the betrayal of Sophia Dryden therefore he was faced with suspicion and even hostility everywhere he went. Still, he knew that a true Blight was upon the land and he walked all over Ferelden in order to find recruits for his mission... it is believed he conscripted King Alistair of Ferelden from the clutches of the Chantry... he was training, against his will, to become a Templar. The Hero of Ferelden is believed to have been a Mage from the Circle Tower of Ferelden. It is said that she aided her best friend in escaping and was faced with the death penalty. However, Duncan recruited her as well. The Grey Wardens did not care who they allowed in their ranks for when you joined the Wardens you left the past behind... all that remains is your duty to fight darkspawn until you perish. In War, victory! In Peace, vigilance! In death, sacrifice!"

She continued the story telling of the fall of Ostagar, of Loghain's betrayal and the Flemeth's unexpected help. She spoke of Lothering and Leliana, of Sten, the Qunari and the fall of the village. She recalled Redcliffe overrun by undead monsters, Bann Teagan asking for their help and Connor, a mere puppet in a monster's hands. She watched as Flora's eyes grew vide when she told her about the cult of Andraste and sighed in envy when she heard of the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Orzammar kept them all on the edge, while the Dalish Camp interested especially Fenris. When the final battle with the Archdemon was recalled everyone stood and listened with rapt fascination.

Night feel that day with her still recalling stories... Fenris and Darrian had long since departed, but Flora seemed to be unable to relax unless she heard the soft murmur of her voice. She fell asleep on Kallian's cot, fighting in her dreams what she had been unable to fight while she was awake. Kallian remained awake until the early hours of the morning wondering when she would finally be able to search for the antidote. She was slowly running out of time...


	15. Day 12: Impertinence

**A/N Again the story took over and this chapter is written in a style similar to that used in Ander's chapter in Eternal Waking Dream. Couldn't help write something exclusively from Kallian's point of view. Enjoy and review! *points at disclaimer*  
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><p>The following day found Kallian back in the laboratory with Hadriana. It was not to prepare herbs as she would have expected, but rather to aid the mage in a matter of spell fusion. Hadriana wished to show herself a true Magister, without having to rely on Danarius too much or wait until the man's death. Unfortunately Kallian had no such experience in this craft, but suggested that rather than actually combining the spells, Hadriana should try to channel her power differently in her hands and create a spell in each.<p>

This proved to be more difficult than actually combining them, but presented its chances of success. Instead of blowing things up, the spell simply sizzled and died if the correct amount of power was not applied. Hadriana noticed she lacked the necessary focus to maintain both spells at the same time and asked Kallian of methods used in the tower, which were carefully veiled under "Master said this" or "Mistress said that" should anyone stumbled upon them.

After hours of careful research they finally came to the conclusion that it can't be done... the spells are not created in such a way to handle two different elements at the same time. However, an ancient tome of magic spoke of a way to actually fuse them. Everything was hidden under a lot of old age gibberish, but they knew that if they managed to find out a way, the spells could be combined.

Hadriana wants this to get out of this life that is not hers, yet has been forced on her from a tender age. She wants to be her own person and choose her own path. Kallian does the research to aid her because she believes there is something worth saving under the woman's cold facade. They are busy reading the tome when he comes to get her...

Fenris stands in the doorstep, glowering more than usual, his mouth twisted in distaste as if something particularly foul had crossed his path. He is waiting for her, she knew that, and she inhaled sharply wondering what had happened. He walks in front of her, almost angry and she follows at a more sedate pace.

"Slaves don't know how to read," he points out and she frowns, knowing it to be true, yet unwilling to come up with a story on the spot. She's so caught up in her own lies that sometimes, in the dead of the night, she even forgets who she is: Kallian or Kaelyn? But the spell is always there, twisting, twirling and she knows deep inside that it does not matter because either way if she fails she is dead.

"It appears so," she drops casually and he twirls around and faces her, anger marring his handsome features. For the first time she notices how much hatred is pooled in those emerald eyes of his, but she thinks that given the time she could be able to make him forget it.

"Who are you?" he snarls, but she does not look away merely allows him to continue, "You have knowledge of battle and you use it flawlessly. You tell tales of the Ancient Times and the Blights. You can read. You are no mere slave."

"No I am not," she says sharply and ignores his fury, "I am much more than a simple slave. I wear a mask and so do you. We all wear masks, out of necessity, out of commodity, out of fear. But a time will come when we shall all shed them. What will you do until them?"

He frowns and she sees the internal battle raging inside him... freedom versus slavery, duty versus knowledge, loyalty versus hatred. As most times, the hatred prevails and he turns around, knowing full well that no matter who she is Danarius will not learn it from him.

"Come, he wants to see you," Fenris stalks forward and once against she follows him. There is no need to ask who he is, she knows full well that it's Danarius who had asked for her. The corridors are darker somehow and a feeling of foreboding washes over her... she knows something will go wrong, she had the same feeling when she was alone, in the dungeons and they came to haunt her.

As she walks in the same chamber room as before she sees him, all smirks and confidence, enjoying the power he has over them. Yet he does not know that she is here out of her free will, that she can turn his whole mansion ablaze if she wants, that the only thing that is keeping her rooted in place is duty and friendship.

"Well, well, my little apothecary," he says and the look he throws her is so wrong that she feels the need to throw up. She had seen the same look on Connor's face when he had been possessed by the Desire demon, but it had not been so utterly twisted. "Hadriana told me that you managed to finish your task adequately. I, myself, looked at your work and was able to deem it passable..."

She nods and keeps her eyes lowered in the ground, acting like a slave, trying to make herself as small as possible. She knows another task will come, harder this time and her time to find the antidote will be severely diminished. She fears there is no other way than to blow up her cover and actually do something instead of playing in Danarius' puppet show.

"You will go in the wilds again soon and gather more ingredients... there are some caves nearby. You will enter them and gather everything I shall give you on my list. Do not fail me, pet."

"Yes, Master," her voice quivers, but her eyes flash in anger as they stand lowered to the ground. They used to call them pets, worthless, mindless pets that had to be locked up for their own good, yet they never understood.

Just when she was about to be dismissed, Flora walks in precariously balancing a tray while her whole body is shivering... Kallian was able to see the scene before it even happened... something would go wrong and Flora would fall, the tray collapsing at her feet, broken china shattered all around her.

"You worthless idiot," Danarius screams and raises a cane to switch the poor elf slave. However, the scene shifts for Kaelyn and it is no longer Flora, on the ground, whimpering, but Anders after one of his cheeky remarks, holding a hand to his smarting face and gazing bravely ahead just as the switch falls down. She acts without thinking and jumps in front of the girl, receiving the brunt of the hits of her arms and shoulders.

"Leave her alone," she blurts, forgetting herself and the hits start falling harder hitting everything they meet in their path. His face is flushed with fury as she does not move to protect herself, merely stands shielding Flora with her own body.

"Never dare contradict me again, slave!" Danarius snarls with fury and hits her hard, sending her sprawling on the shattered china pieces. Glass enters her skin and she hisses in pain, but makes no move to actually get up from her spot.

"Get them out of my sight," she hears the Magister snarl again and a pair of hands hoists her up powerfully and throws her back in her room, locking the door behind. She knows this is not her only punishment, she knows there's more to come, but for the first time she does not care as she removes the bracelet and gingerly heals the cuts... for the first time she is not powerless, forced only to watch and pray...

When the next day comes she is not afraid of whatever the magister has in store for her... it cannot be worse than what she went through a the hands of the Templars.


	16. Day 13: Hurt

**A/N This chapter is more angsty, which usually suits my way of writing. Torture is implied so if it disturbs you, please skip this chapter. Enjoy and review! *points at disclaimer*  
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><p>"Festis bei umo canavarum!" he snapped harshly as he dragged her furiously down a flight of stairs. His metal gauntlet grasped her wrist tightly, almost crushing it, the steel cutting into the skin painfully. A trickle of blood flowed down her wrist, singing to her as it had started to since she used the Avvar spell to bind Alistair's life to hers. He was moving so fast that she missed the last two steps and crashed to the ground, her knees hitting the marble floor painfully. He did not even acknowledge her wounds and painfully grabbed her by the arm, raising her to her feet. Her wrist throbbed painfully and as she heard a tiny crack in the air… a bone may have been broken or at least cracked. He was mad, she could feel the anger radiating from his pores, but she did not care… she had saved an innocent being even at the cost of her personal expense. She mentally winced thinking how Darrian would scold her after this escapade.<p>

She knew what awaited her now… the whip. It was not the first time she had been beaten, but it would probably be the last. She was a Grey Warden not some feeble minded slave from the gutters. She was the Chancellor of Denerim and the slayer of the Archdemon. As soon as she got her hands on the precious antidote she would make sure to make them all pay…

She blinked, startled and almost lost her footing again… what was she thinking? What was happening to her? She had never nurtured thoughts of vengeance, not even against the Templars that had antagonized her in her childhood. She had never fallen to the sin of hubris. So what if she was important now, at one point she had been a simple elf from the Alienage like many others… she had had a mother and a sister. Something was changing her… she knew what it was… sapping away at her life force at the same time it tainted her soul. The blood ritual was claiming what it was due. Both body and soul… Still she would not surrender to it. Control was everything… Wynne thought her control during the Blight! She was going to use it…

The temperature seemed to drop several degrees as they went lower and lower in the Magister's mansion. They were heading towards the dungeons more likely and Fenris was simply oozing anger and hatred. Could he not understand why she had done what she had done? Did he hate her for it? She found herself craving his acceptance in a weird way… she knew what it was like for him. She had gone through the same thing in the Tower, but she had managed to break free. Now, she vowed, he will be the one to be released from the binds of servitude as soon as the time is right…

'Focus on finding the antidote, Kaelyn' , she thought to herself 'then you can leave and take him with you. This place will be just another nightmare tucked at the corner of your soul like so many others. Alistair will be cured and the blood spell will be broken.'

While the Warden was nurturing these thoughts, Fenris was fuming. He knew he was hurting her, he knew her wrist was bloodied because of his armor and her knees were scrapped due to her carelessness, but it was only a small physical pain as compared to what she would feel in the dungeons. How could she be so stupid? Why did she care about others? Damn her and her big heart! Damn him and his soft spot towards her. He did not want to see her get hurt and now he had to stand and watch as she would be whipped bloody with the "special" tool. He knew how much it hurt and he wondered if she would be able to stand it… the pain… ten lashes because she couldn't keep her damn mouth shut.

And she… she was so calm and resolute. She had no idea what it was truly like to be down there, waiting for your sentence to be carried. But she would learn and she would hate him, for being the one to lead her to this fate. He could not do a single thing to stop it…

As the fast flight of stairs finished, she looked around and schooled her gaze. She was Kallian, elven slave and she could not show the determined gaze of the Grey Warden, Kaelyn. She should be meek, scared, huddled in a corner of her mind to escape the terrors that were due to unfold. She saw him as soon as they entered the dungeon… huge, deformed, with a black patch over one eye and crooked fingers as if someone had smashed them with a mallet. Hairless… with burns all over his face, cruel smile twisting his mouth in a grimace. He had been waiting for her…

"The Master," she could almost hear the capital "M" in Fenris' tone, "asked that you give her the special one. Ten times… he still wants her to be able to perform her daily duties."

" Always a pleasure to serve the Master," the man said in a groveling tone, cold as a cone of ice. He grabbed her by the arm powerfully and pulled her forward, ignoring the louder crack that echoed this time.

Her wrist started swelling almost on the spot and she understood the bone was now broken. She bit her lip to stop herself from crying out as he tied her to the chains dangling in the middle of the room. All of her instincts were streaming at her to start casting, to heal, yet the bracelet kept her magic bound tightly. The coldness of a blade grazed her skin and she felt the tunic she wore being cut apart in order to allow better access to the whip.

'I will not cry… I will not yell… I will not kick… I will not give them the satisfaction!' the mantra had served her well in the early years in the Tower and she was sure it would serve her well now, as well. The whip cracked in the air and the first hit fell…

Kallian bid her lip again, this time breaking the skin open and allowing blood to flow… she had never expected the pure agony that took over her. Something had been added to the whip, something that made her skin burn as if a fire raged inside her. Something that was waking up her senses, throwing them in a maddening haze despite the bracelet that was binding them.

As soon as the second hit fell and the burning sensation increases she understood… she swore in Ferelden, Orlesian and elvish in her mind, cursing them to an endless life in the Deep Roads as she felt the smell of lyrium hit her nostrils. They had coated the whip in lyrium… any person would feel unbelievable pain every time one of the hits fell, but for a mage whose magic was bound it was pure terror.

As the hits continued falling she no longer thought about the pain in her back, but rather the burn that was moving to her limbs, chest and head. Her insides felt as if they had been scorched as her powers fought desperately to be unleashed. Her magic was swirling inside her unable to get free and in the process it was damaging all it found in its path. Deep inside her, the black link coiled even tighter around her life force, fueled by the lyrium that entered her bloodstream directly through the wounds where the whip bit into the flesh.

By the time the last strike fell, Kallian's face was ashen, her eyes were sunken in their orbits, bloodshot and empty, while her breaths came out dangerously shallow. Her whole body convulsed as if caught by seizures as her body tried to deal with the lyrium overdose and get rid of it somehow. Blessed oblivion took over her, just as her eyes rolled at the back of her head and blood sprung down her nose.

Fenris had been standing nearby, making sure she would not be wounded more than necessary. Danarius' monster found great pleasure in giving pain and always enjoyed using the special tool, hearing its victims cry to the skies as each blow burned more than the other. When the first strike fell he had expected Kallian to scream, cry or beg… yet the elf had bit her lip and stubbornly remained silent. With each passing hit he noticed as she became weaker and weaker, trembling and biting harder to keep herself from screaming. However, something was wrong… at one point it appeared as if she had lost herself in the pain that was grasping her body. Her eyes were vacant as if some internal struggled was taking place inside her.

It was only when the last strike fell that the seizures took over her. Her body convulsed powerfully still rattling the chains that kept her bound. Her eyes had rolled in the back of her head and blood was now flowing freely from her ears and nose.

"Venhedis!" Fenris cried out and quickly rushed to her side, unchaining her. "Master will not be pleased if you killed his pet apothecary. What else did you add to the whip?" he snarled at the monster that stood dazed in his place.

"Nothing… just lyrium like Master said!"

In his arms she had grown limp and her breathing slowed down even more. Ragged gasps shook her body, for they could no longer be called breaths of air. Her skin had started getting hotter and hotter and Fenris feared that either the fever or the lack of air would kill her in mere moments. The slave had not added anything else to the whip, therefore something else was wrong. With her broken and bleeding body in his arms he dashed up the stairs towards the place where her brother usually resided. He found him, polishing his bow like he did every day, most likely expecting his sister.

The startled expression and the anger that took him when he saw her broken body would have moved even a mountain, but Fenris had no time for such silliness. He had to find out was mysterious disease ailed her before she took her last breath… and by the way she was gasping any could be the last.

"What have you done to her?" Darrian said with such icy calmness that shocked Fenris to the core. The danger behind the assassin's words was so palpable that it was clear he was no mere slave. These two brothers were more than it met the eye.

"Master sent her to the dungeons… his pet torturer whipped her with a whip coated in lyrium. It burns horribly, but it should not have damaged her so."

Darrian stopped in mid thought, turning back to Zevran's mentality and viewing the girl as Kaelyn once more. She was a mage… mages became more potent when they drank lyrium, their powers were enhanced. But what happened to a mage that had had her powers bound by a bracelet. The lyrium would increase her powers, however they would not find any way to manifest themselves. They would rage inside her body, unchecked, trying to get free. And if they couldn't? They would attack the inside… the skin, the tissue, the organs… whatever was closest to the wild magic that had no ways of manifesting itself. Shocked understanding fell on his face and horrified eyes turned towards Fenris giving the only explanation that did not require revealing her secret.

"You damned fool!" Zevran, turned Darrian once more, spat. "She is highly allergic to lyrium. It's killing her with each moment it remains inside her wounds."

Fenris froze to the spot… lyrium intoxication… she needed a healer and fast. Who? Danarius was no healer, but Hadriana knew healing spells. Swallowing his pride and knowing full well who would have her on his conscience should Kallian die he rushed to the quarters of the Magister's apprentice.

"Don't you dare die, damn you!" he growled at her, trying to keep her as steady and move as gingerly as possible. "Just don't die…" he added in a more quiet whisper. Behind him more footsteps echoed signalling the fact that Kallian's brother was close behind them.


	17. Day 14: Fever

**A/N Another update is here. If I manage to finish this challenge then I'm taking a long break. A very long one! Enjoy and review! *points at disclaimer*  
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><p>Hadriana stood hunched at her desk, a huge tome of elemental spells lying in front of her, trying to make some sense out of the gibberish that was the description of magic three centuries prior. Technical details were added to mystical nonsense making it hard to understand what the author really wanted to convey. Her attempts to fuse to spells had once again failed and she had hoped this tome will give her the answer to what she was doing wrong. Should she manage to combine the fireball with the lightning chain she would be one step forward to creating a spell that unleashed a devastating storm of fire and lightning at the moment it was casted. With a spell as powerful as the one she was planning, she would be finally recognized as a magister and everyone would be forced to acknowledge her. They would no longer sneer and laugh at her, calling her Danarius' pet mage. She would show them all and she would do it without having an annoying voice from the Fade at the back of her mind. She had no desire to share her power with anyone else.<p>

"Hadriana!" a voice rang in the silence of her room and the mage winced in frustration. Oh, how he hated him, Danarius' pet wolf… no matter what she did it was never enough, no matter how hard she tried she never pleased him, but he with his arrogance and his sarcasm always pleased Danarius. He cried that he had been beaten and whipped, forced to do unmentionable thing, yet nobody ever stopped to think that she may have received the exact same treatment every time she flunked a spell. She still remembered him, little Leto, loved by his mother and sister, working hard to help them. He had had a happy life until he received his markings even though he did not remember it. She, on the other hand, had been sold for a few gold coins as soon as her magic flared to life. Nobody truly wanted her and she was envious at what he had… she had been happy when he lost it all.

"Hadriana!" the voice rang again with a more urgent tone and the mage scowled. It was weird of Fenris to seek her out, especially with such an urgent tone. He avoided her at all costs and she stopped to nothing in order to make his life miserable… now he was calling for her. Huffing in frustration she rose from her seat and stepped in the corridor almost bumping in the slave.

"What do you want, slave?" she drawled with arrogance, aiming to remind his of the difference between their positions. However, all arrogance washed away when she saw the limp and pale body in his arms… the elf, Kallian.

She respected Kallian as much as she hated Fenris… she knew little about the not-actually slave mage-in-hiding and from what she had gathered Kallian could flee from her prison anytime she wanted. The steel and strength she had seen in the other mage's eyes when she had dropped all pretenses and defenses had shocked Hadriana to the core. She had reminded her more of the Dalish and their proud nature as opposed to their cousins from the Alienage. She did not know who Kallian truly was, but the strength that was buried inside her would be a force that would have even Danarius fleeing in terror should she choose to unleash it.

_"This is not a mere bracelet," she recalled herself saying when she and the elf had remained alone preparing herbs. "I recognize it from Lord Danarius' tomes. It is a cuff of binding. It used to be an item the Templars used in Nevarra. You are a mage!" _

The elf had tilted her head to one side and smirked coldly. There was no fear in her light brown eyes, no trepidation, only calmness and strength.

_"And what will you do with that knowledge, Hadriana? Tell the magister? You have no way of proving it and nobody can remove the bracelet unless I wish it. You will simply appear a fool. But, please, tell him, try to ruin my plans… I had people stronger than you who tried to interfere in my affairs. It always ended badly for them…"_

There had been confidence in her voice, but also an unveiled threat and naked truth in her words. She had fought people stronger than Hadriana and won. Now, as she looked at the battered and limp body in Fenris' arms she could not stop but wonder what had happened to her.

"What have you done to the Master's apothecary slave?" she asked with trepidation in her voice as she stretched her hand and touched Kallian's skin… it was dangerously hot.

"She interfered on another slave's behalf… the master got angry and ordered her to receive ten whips with the weapon coated in lyrium. She is allergic to it."

Hadriana's eyes widened in shock even before Fenris added the conclusion he had learned from Darrian. A mage with her powers bound receiving lyrium directly in her bloodstream… she might very well be dying in that exact moment.

"Bring her in my chambers quickly. You, Darrian, bring hot water and clean sheets. I'll need to clean the lyrium from her wounds as fast as possible."

Fenris did as he was ordered and placed Kallian on the bed, with her back exposed in order to allow Hadriana to clean her wounds. Her skin had turned almost grey and her breathing was so ragged it was a miracle she was even able to fill her lungs with air. The wounds were still oozing furiously, a white foam coating them.

Darrian entered the room with a small, stone basin in his arms and several white bandages tossed over his hand. Hadriana took both of them from his arms and cast both males a withering glare that made them move away from her patient. She gently washed each wound trying to clean away the white foam and the clotted blood, noticing how Kallian did not utter a sound yet her body trembled and convulsed under her touch. A pale golden light erupted from her hands and washed over the wounds, making the healing process start.

However, the wounds were not the main problem, but the damage that had been done inside and the lyrium intoxication Kallian was currently suffering from. The mage recalled all of the healing lessons she took while Danarius was away… at that time she had wanted to learn in order to heal her own wounds, but now all the practicing in the dark would help her aid someone whom she considered a kindred soul. She concentrated powerfully, trying to call forth Kallian's aura and see where the lyrium swirled. She closed her eyes and "saw" a white shape bound tightly by a pale blue rope. That was the lyrium that had to be removed from Kallian's body or at least neutralized. She used a spell akin to the smite of the Templars that drew mana from a mage in order to replenish the mana of the opponent. It was frequently used in combat, but now, after draining Kallian two times, the lyrium levels decreased and her magic levels, although bound, returned to their normal state.

Danarius' apprentice noticed several unsettling facts about the elf… first the internal damage had been extensive and even after casting her most powerful healing spell she was unsure whether Kallian would recover or not. Second, there were two other binds, twisting around the elf's aura. The first one was black and was moving slow, at the moment only encircling the white figure's wrist, but heading towards the shoulder. It was an ailment that would eventually overcome Kallian, but it would be many years until it caught up with her.

However, the second link was blood red and was twisting fast around the aura's shape. So far it held under control about a third of the shape… from the colour Hadriana knew it was a blood link that was shared with a dying person. But whether it had been cast by Kallian herself or by someone else she could not tell. The fact remained that soon enough the blood link may very well kill the mage.

"I did all I could do," she said stopping her casting. The spells had drained her and she now reached for her cabinet to drink yet another lyrium potion. Turning her eyes to the window she saw that night had fallen a long time ago… it was probably midnight by now. "The rest is up to her… if she is strong enough to fight the fever she'll live… if not…" she trailed off, additional information remaining unnecessary. She chose not to tell them about the two links… it was no business of hers. She guessed rather than knew that Kallian would wish everything to remain a secret. "You may take her to her room now… there is nothing else I can help her with."

Darrian did not wait another moment… glaring daggers at Fenris, he took his sister in his arms, bridal style and headed towards the door. He was fighting hard to keep hold over his personality when all he wanted to do is utter nonsense to Kaelyn, not Kallian, and remind her all that they went through and survived. She could not die here, in this abysmal city, far from everyone and everything she loved.

"Thank you, Mistress Hadriana," he spoke coldly, and then turned towards Fenris. "If my sister dies, it is you I am blaming," his eyes glittered dangerously in the candlelight and for a moment he was Zevran, the Antivan Crow assassin as he had been before meeting the Warden, "and make no mistake, I always reach my quarry."

'Well, not always,' he thought ruefully to himself as he left the room and headed towards his own room rather than Kallian's. 'But sometimes it is for the best.'

"Ay, bella, what have you done to yourself," he muttered to her as he gently placed her on the bed. Her skin was still hot, yet she had regained some of her former colour and was able to breathe better. "Should Morrigan learn of this she would give you one of her famous tongue lashings, no?"

He started gently stroking her hair as he had done many times before, while they were on the road and she recalled memories of the Tower and those dear to her that remained behind. Her head would be draped in his lap and he would tell her tales of countries and people he had met. There had never been anything romantic between them and never could be, for they had become brothers from the moment she saved his life that day on the Ferelden road.

"Shale would be worried that her "it" had been squished… and you would tell her you'll be up and going before she knows it. Alistair would fuss around scared that he would actually have to take some decisions and we cannot allow that, no? Come on, bella, you're more powerful than any illness, show that Ferelden stubbornness of yours."

A whole day passed until her fever finally broke… luckily Danarius had not seen fit to ask for her in the meantime. Through it all Zevran stood by her side, recalling tales from his times with the Antivan Crows, telling her about Isabella and her crew, about other pirates he had encountered and Qunari more morose than Sten, about Rivain and Antiva, Orlesians and poodles and even people from the Anderfels. He did not know whether she heard anything from what he told her, but when she finally opened her eyes she beamed at him happily.

"Zevran!" she whispered.

"Bella, you're back. Should have known it is royally though to kill you."

"Ah," she smiled remembering that phrase, "I seem to recall something about a deadly sex goddess as well in that phrase. Where did that remain?"

"Back in Ferelden, cara!" he laughed and hugged her tight.

Nobody heard the figure that had been standing in the doorstep unsure whether to enter or not, nobody knew he had heard they soft whispers and nobody saw him leave, confused and unsure what to think of the scene he had just witnessed.


	18. Day 15: Antidote

**A/N Phew, managed to write another chapter while joggling many other things at the same time. I'm a tad behind schedule, but it's nothing that cannot be fixed, hopefully. Thank you for your latest review and for continuing to read this story. Enjoy! *points at disclaimer*  
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><p>A whole day passed until Kallian was properly back on her feat... the pain had receded to a dull throb, which she still felt anytime she stretched or bent. Despite all that, she could not afford losing anymore time. Danarius had left the mansion for three days, putting Hadriana in charge which gave her the perfect opportunity to search the third level and see if she could get rid of the Magister's protective barrier. Darrian had asked to come with her seeing as he was the expert in stealth, but she declined... there was no knowing what Danarius kept in there and it was easier if she went alone.<p>

The slaves' quarters were on the first floor along with the quarters of the guards. The second floor belonged to Hadriana and slaves were rarely allowed in all those rooms. These were her private quarters, her laboratory, her study and her library. Danarius owned the last floor where no one was ever allowed except the magister. All of these facts she had learned from Flora soon after Darrian managed to successfully snoop around the higher levels of the mansions. Now, she was heading in the same direction.

She made her way slowly around the second floor... she would have wanted to check out Hadriana's library and see the tomes the apprentice had. Surely there were more than she had in either Denerim or at Vigil's Keep. After the end of this ordeal she wanted to return to the Keep. The ways of the court were not for her, despite the appreciation the populace held for her. She wanted to return to the thick of the battle and learn more about the darkspawn and the Taint. Perhaps there was a way in which the disease might be controlled in other ways besides those offered by the Grey Wardens. After being held in a Tower for most of her life, the confines of the court felt suffocating. She had promised Alistair she would remain there to help him, but now he had Anora and he was quickly turning out to be a wonderful monarch by himself.

Snapping out of her musings, Kallian made sure to avoid being seen by the guards that were patrolling on the corridor. She wondered what the Magister's apprentice could own that made it necessary to have so many guards pacing in front of her rooms. Seeing as it did not matter to her, Kallian slowly made her way towards the third floor. There was an eerie feeling that swept over her as soon as she entered the corridor... something was dreadfully wrong. The barrier appeared as soon as she made the second step, shimmering blue in front of her. She noticed the doors Darrian had talked about and the attic as well... the darkness surrounding the attic gave her chills but she willed them away. First she had to get rid of the barrier which was probably created using blood magic...

Kallian silently groaned and pocketed the bracelet which now started having traces of dried blood on her. She did not know whether she would be able to use another blood magic spell without succumbing to the whispers that were growing louder and louder in her head. Without actually being aware of it, her hand bent to her boot and revealed the small dagger she had used to help Alistair.

_"Come use it, let me free..."_

_"You know you want this, you need this..."_

_"You wouldn't want to fail Alistair, would you..."_

'Shut up!' her voice echoed in her mind, but it was broken, lacking its usual strength. She no longer had the power to fight them, but she tried chasing them away. Again... and again... and again... The door that she once used to separate herself from them was not shattered, broken.

_"You need me..."_

_"Listen to me..."_

_"I will show you the way..."_

'No', she whimpered lacking her usual force as the dagger appeared to sing in her hand. 'No, no, no!'

_"BEGONE!" _

Another voice rang in her head and the door that was broken became whole again, slamming shut between her and the voices of the Fade.

_"You need not worry about them for a while, young one. For now, they are gone."_

The voice was kind and gentle, yet fierce and strong. She remembered hearing such a voice, once, in a half forgotten dream.

_'Who are you?' she tried "seeing" the voice in the Fade, but he remained elusive, a myriad of colours and sound._

_"You would not remember me. Last we had seen each other I was twisted...tainted..."_

_'Urthemiel?'_

_" 'tis I, young one. For now I have helped you get across safe."_

_'Are you awake, then?'_

_"No, I sleep still... the young one has no knowledge of me for now."_

With that last statement his voice faded and Kallian found herself once more alone in the Magister's mansion. Raising the dagger, she slashed her hand and made a circular movement over the barrier. The shield flickered, and then died out allowing her passage. She moved swiftly, leaving the dark attic last. The barrier on the rooms had also faded. Using the lessons she had learned from Darrian, she broke the locks on the first two rooms. One proved to be another library, this time the Magister's private one. Stacks full of books rose to the ceiling almost blocking the windows of the room. Most of them, she noticed, were tomes of blood magic and entropy. Seeing nothing else of interest, she left making sure to lock the room once more.

The second room was Danariu's bedroom... a lavish king sized bed with forest green velvet curtains stood in the middle of the room. On each side the magister had regal looking armchairs, made of the same material as the curtains. A desk filled with papers stood across the room and Kallian noticed several bottles on it. Checking them quickly, Kallian noticed they were mundane poisons and healing potions. The cabinet to her left held several potent poisons and their antidotes, but nothing labelled Velox Mortem could be seen. Sighing in disappointment, the elf mage left the room and locked it once more.

The third room was a laboratory... the rare ingredients she saw there were enough to make her sigh in envy. However, upon thinking how they had been gathered, she cast the thought aside. Once more the quarry left her empty handed seeing as there were no potions inside the laboratory, only well conserved ingredients.

The small attic was last... it was not protected by any means making Kallian believe that whatever was kept there could protect itself. She stepped on the narrow stairs, wincing at the creeks they made. As she made her way up she saw a big arcade... stepping under it she saw a circular room, which held only one object in its middle. An intricate ornate mirror appeared in front of her... two imposing statues flanked the mirror on both sides, almost sneering at those who dared disrupt them.

"An Eluvian..." she gasped in surprise and walked closer to the mirror. It looked exactly as the Eluvian Morrigan had used, but it felt wrong, twisted... something had been done to the mirror. Stepping closer to it, Kallian was mesmerized by the beauty of the artefact. Images succeded themselves in front of her eyes, but they moved too fast making her unable to see what was truly being showed to her. An underground city... Dalish elves... dragons... She brushed the mirror with the tip of her fingers only to be blasted away by a powerful beam of light.

The elf fell to the ground, knocking her head against the cold stone floor... dizzy, she rose to her feet and staggered outside the attic and down the stairs. The mirror had something in it, something that felt wrong... like the Joining Ritual had felt. Barely able to stand on her feet, she remade the barrier that protected the corridor and stumbled, more than climbed down the flight of stairs. Her head was spinning and a trickle of blood was running down the back of her neck. She barely made it to the front of Hadriana's rooms before collapsing in a dead faint.


	19. Day 16: Answers

**A/N Didn't proof read this one because I was really tired, but I wanted to finish it today.**

**I'm trying to portray Hadriana a bit differently in this story, basing my characterization of her on something Orana said. I think that had she been more powerful, Hadriana could have ignored the ridicule of the other magisters thus becoming a better person than Danarius. She is still a cold hearted bitch, but one that actually allows herself to feel something from time to time. In this chapter she starts showing some of her darker side. **

**Enjoy! *points at disclaimer*  
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><p>The first thing she noticed when she woke up was the pounding headache that seemed determined to make her feel as if she had been trampled by a herd of Hurlocks. The second thing that did not escape her notice was that she was not in her room on the small, hard cot which had been provided for her, neither was she in her brother's almost comfortable bed. Rather, right now, she felt exquisite satin sheets brushing her skin and a thick velvet blanket draped over her form. Wondering where in the Maker's name she was , Kallian groaned slightly and tried to open her eyes. The light in the room was dim making it easy for her to blink the blurriness away and look around her.<p>

The room was similar to Danarius', yet less intricately decorated. Everything around her was colored in red and gold. The bed she was currently sitting in was a four-poster one with red curtains draped around it, yet not shielding it completely.

"Well, well, well, it appears you are awake," a voice drawled and Kallian blinked in surprise seeing Hadriana in a chair, next to her. "Imagine my surprise when the guards brought an unconscious mage to my laboratory, asking whether I allowed you on the second floor. When I told them to put you in my room, I believe other thoughts crossed their minds. What in the world did you do now?" she snapped.

"Nothing," Kallian answered and noticed her voice was scratchy as if she had not used it in a long time. Propping herself on her elbows she tried to sit up and looked at the apprentice's troubled, yet smug face.

"I told you I care nothing for your reasons for hiding the fact that you are a mage and hiding in a Magister's house", here Hadriana dangled Kallian's bracelet in front of the mage-in-hiding's eyes and the elf paled in surprise, understanding she must had forgot to put it back on. "However, that was before you started snooping around the higher levels of the mansion performing blood magic."

At this point Hadriana also revealed the small dagger Kallian always kept in her possession.

"What I want to know now is who are you really?" Hadriana smiled smugly and for a moment Kallian remembered her first encounter with Morrigan, "Maleficar or apostate, hmm?"

"Neither," Kallian said bluntly and was satisfied to see Hadriana pause in surprise. "I am a Grey Warden."

"You are a what?" the apprentice screeched in surprise, not knowing what to think about this new development. "What would a Grey Warden be doing in the house of a Magister posing as a slave?"

"Our group was targeted by assassins two weeks ago. Our commander was poisoned with a poison hailing from Tevinter. I have been sent to find the antidote and bring it back home."

"And the only idea you had was posing as a slave?" Hadriana asked sarcastically, "Truly the Grey Wardens are an Order of immense wisdom. What poison was it?"

"Velox Mortem..." Kallian answered and was surprised to hear Hadriana's sharp inhale of breath. The poison was not unknown to her.

"Such a poison kills in twenty four hours," the mage was quick to point out.

"I put the Commander under a stasis spell to halt the movement of the poison."

"You did more than that," Hadriana said icily, "I saw the blood link in your aura. It is you who is dying now."

"I will not die if I find the antidote in time," Kallian pointed out.

"Danarius always holds the antidote in a small vial, on a chain around his neck. Unless you manage to overpower him somehow without actually raising all the guards you will be unable to get the antidote. Moreover you have less time than you think you have."

"What do you mean?" Kallian asked sharply. She had never had the time to properly research the spell, therefore it was possible that Hadriana knew more than her.

"The blood link does not always last as long as it's supposed to last. Sometimes it lasts longer... sometimes it starts weakening until it breaks completely. Other times it just snaps and drags you in the Fade. You did not know this before you used it, did you?"

"It matters not," Kallian snapped dread taking over her... if she had less time than she thought she had to hurry. But how could she know how much time she had left. "The Commander is more important than me. If I die nothing will change."

"In Death Sacrifice, right?" Hadriana laughed humorlessly, "Every being out there will always fight to live no matter how subdued it is. Fenris is able to rip the heart of my chest anytime he wants, but he waits for the opportune moment. Flora is more than she appears to be... the girl was once a great thief. Are you going to tell me that you are planning to just give up? Where is all that fabled Grey Warden bravery?"

"Did I say I was going to give up," Kallian snarled, "I lived as long as I did by not giving up. I did not give up when I was in the Templars' "gentle" care and I will not give up now. If I have to fight Danarius, you and all his guards then so be it. I care not... I faced high dragons and ogres..."

"Good girl," Hadriana smiled to herself and Kallian was acutely reminded of the talking darkspawn. She felt as if she entered a deal with the Archdemon himself while he was still tainted. "Perhaps we can help each other, hmm?"

"If you want me to kill Danarius, forget it. You can go ahead and kill him yourself, I will not expose myself before I am sure I am able to escape freely."

"Now, don't be hasty, Kallian... who said anything about killing Danarius? There are better ways of shaming a Magister in Tevinter... less bloody ways. I will simply have to think about it."

On second thought, if she had done a deal with the Archdemon it would have probably been safer than a deal with Hadriana. Still, Kallian knew she had no choice in the matter at hand. She had to use all the help she could get... She simply had to hope that the spell would not break ahead of time.

Kallian rose from the bed and gingerly got down... her head still ached, but the pain had lessen in intensity. She wondered whether having to deal with Hadriana scared the pain away...

"Kallian?" the apprentice called out before Kallian was able to leave the room.

"Yes, Hadriana?" she grit her teeth not wanting to show she was furious.

"Your bracelet... and the dagger..."

Almost smacking herself for her stupid mistake, Kallian turned around and recovered the two items. She slid the bracelet back on her wrist and placed the small dagger back in her boot. Danarius' apprentice looked thorn, as if she wanted to ask something but did not dare.

"Yes?" Kallian almost snapped.

"What is Danarius hiding in the upmost room?"

One could almost see the frightened, yet excited look in the mage's eyes. Curiosity had taken over fear and she finally had the opportunity to find out what the Magister was hiding.

"An Eluvian... a Dalish mirror for communication. It may be tainted or corrupted so don't go looking for it." the elf replied before leaving the room as swiftly as possible, ignoring Hadriana's half amazed half confused state.


	20. Day 17: Ferelden

**A/N Thank you for your reviews, they really made my day. This chapter we turn to Ferelden and see what happens there. Unfortunately I'm still one day behind schedule, but I may be able to catch up during the weekend. Enjoy! *points to disclaimer***

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><p>The whole kingdom had become drowned in turmoil. News that the King was gravely ill and that the Hero of Ferelden had left to find a miraculous cure broke out despite the fact that the Queen tried hard to hide it.<p>

After a while the Queen simply stopped trying to put an end to the rumours. After all, why should she pretend her husband was not lying motionlessly on a bed kept alive only by a specially designed rune and a forbidden spell cast by a reckless mage.

She could not begrudge Kaelyn for using that particular spell. She too would have done anything to save him had it been in her power. She also knew the elf had little regard for her own safety and thought of herself as being expendable. The selfish part of her heart whispered traitorously that she would not be able to stand seeing another man she loved perish. Cailan had been foolish, obsessed with the glory of the past days and had met his death in battle. Still, it was who he was and she had never tried to change him.

Alistair, on the other hand, was different. He acted goofy and seemed distracted, but in reality he knew very well what he had to do. He recognized his own weaknesses and was not afraid to ask for help. He had sought her out when he did not know what to do and did not trust Eamon to aid him. He even proposed a marriage to her for the sake of the country... It was supposed to be a matter of convenience, friendship at most, but she had allowed herself to actually care.

Like she had allowed herself to care for Kaelyn... she was prepared to hate the elf woman that supported Marric's bastard and was fighting against her father. She was prepared to betray her as soon as she could, getting rid of a distraction and a danger. When Cauthrien came she sneaked off, leaving the Warden to deal with the mess created by her... Before the Landsmeet she offered her support to the Warden with her mind already made up to betray her at the actual event.

_"I can't support you, Anora..."_

She had been furious to hear that decision... was she not Cailan's wife? Was she not the one who had been leading the country for the past five years? She preferred to support Marric's bastard who grew up in the Chantry and had no idea how a country was ruled? She was prepared to fight and change the Warden's mind when she said something that boggled her mind.

_"The country needs a Grey Warden in times of Blight and you cannot understand as well as he the dangers we face. What I can do is help your father... he made mistakes, he trusted that snake, Arl Howe, he sold the elves into slavery, but the decision he made on the battlefield was a tactical one... a good one. It was too late for the army and his men would have been killed as well... " _

She had kept her promise... her father had been allowed to redeem his honour and died on the battlefield. He was no longer the Hero of River Dane and neither the man who usurped the throne... he was the Saviour of Denerim as the men who fought next to him started calling him. Cauthrien had been elected Teyrna of Gwaren as a tribute to her father's trust in her and also recognition for her brave acts on the battlefield.

After the Blight was defeated, her bitterness started taking over her... kept in a gilded cage, she seethed and vowed revenge, bend on forgetting all the good both Alistair and Kaelyn did. That was until he first came to her... it was late at night when he came to visit her... weary, haggard and with bangs under his eyes. It was almost as if he was fighting the Blight all over again... he looked so strain that she almost felt sorry for him.

_"Help me, please. I do not trust Eamon..."_

The Hero of Ferelden was rebuilding the Order of the Grey Wardens in Amaranthine... Bann Teagan, the man who Alistair trusted and cared for almost as much as he used to care for Eamon was in Redcliffe. Left alone with the old Chancellor, Alistair soon saw that he only cared for the greater good. So he came to her for help.

_"Very well," she said stiffly and started helping him._

They started planning together every time he had time... at night when he just got out of a meeting, before a Landsmeet when the demands of the nobles were the highest, at lunch when he started bringing her a flower or a trinket to brighten up her days. She managed to see that he was not the bumbling idiot he seemed at first glance... he managed to see that she was not the cruel harpy she appeared to be. They both grew to respect each other.

Five months after he first appeared on her doorstep, Alistair visited her again, fidgeting and obviously nervous. She sighed, thinking that their sessions were about to come to an end, but was surprised when he asked him to reign by her side. She was even more touched when he said that he would be faithful to her, regardless of the fact that it was a marriage of convenience. She agreed...

Now, as she stood vigilant near him, accompanied by Wynne, she wondered whether it wouldn't have been more prudent to never get involved... to spare herself the pain and the heartache. Still, something did not let her follow these thoughts... it was as it was and she did not regret it.

Somewhere, hundreds of miles away from the capital of Ferelden, an elf stood silent in her room wondering what to do. Her last discussion with Hadriana had shed some light in the matter of blood links and Kallian found herself worrying over what might happen.

_"Blood links are determined by the strength of the caster and the strength of the one that's bound to the caster. It almost never lasts as long as it's supposed to last, because both the caster and the bound one can be affected by other elements on the duration of the bind. For example your little encounter with the torturer may very well have shortened the time you have left to find the antidote and return to your Order wherever that may be..."_

She had to be quick about the whole thing... she had to think and meet with Darrian to create a new plan. It did not matter whether the spell hurt her, but she had no way to know for sure whether she had cast it properly. Alistair and not her might very well be caught in the aftermath of the spell... or even both of them. With rumours coming from the Dalish that Flemeth might actually be alive still and the new threat of the talking darkspwan, she shuddered to think what would happen to Ferelden if left without protection.

There was also the matter of Flora and Fenris... Kallian had sworn to herself that she would not let the elf girl remain in the clutches of the Magister anymore, especially since Hadriana had revealed that she was not always a slave. It was easier to convince someone who had been free to return to freedom than cast someone who had been a servant all his life back on the streets. The poor girl deserved to be free and her baby deserved to be able to live without a mad magister hovering over him every step of the way.

Fenris on the other hand, intrigued her. At times he acted like he had a deep, seething grudge against her, while other times he seemed almost civil. In her barely unconscious state she had heard him begging her not to die, therefore she concluded he must care for her a little bit, at least. That, or he felt indebted to her for saving his life in the forest. She on the other hand felt drawn to him as she had never felt drawn to anyone before. He infuriated her and annoyed her, but sometimes there was something in his eyes that made her want to help him. Still, she did not know whether he would allow her to do just that...

The fact that everyone except the guards hated Danarius would work in her advantage. She simply had to wait for the opportune moment and strike when she was sure she would be able to escape. She hated the Magister with her entire fibre and longed to send a fireball down his way, but was certain that he had every scenario in mind. He was always expecting an attack... there had to be something that would aid her, something she had not thought about prior to that day. As she lay down in her small bed, she wondered what factor she would be able to use.

_"Patience, young one, patience...All good things come to those who wait," a voice lulled her to sleep and she recognized Urthemiel's gentle tone. She still wondered why the Old God was able to talk to her, but she knew that her answers would have to wait._

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	21. Day 18: Cave

**A/N I appear to have a sadistic pleasure of putting my character through mystery. This chapter ended up as something entirely different that I expected it to be. Thank you for your review, favs and alerts . Enjoy! *points to disclaimer***

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><p>After being locked away in a tower almost all your life, you developed fears and phobias. It was like Oghren felt when he left Orzammar for the first time… the world is endless and it feels like the sky is going to swallow you up. Anders had claustrophobia… he could not stand being confined in small spaces, legacy of his time spent in solitary. He had hated the Deep Roads and she had felt guilty for conscripting him. Still, it was the only way she was able to save him. Jowan had been afraid of spiders… he had called them the crawlers in the night… he could not stand seeing them. None of them was truly sane, they made sure to break them with each passing moment. Some were strong enough to survive, some simply did not care anymore, but some gave up…<p>

She feared being underground… the lack of air, the darkness, the confines all made her want to cry out in fright. She had never allowed it to take over her, this stupid phobia of hers, because other needed her and she could not allow her whims to rule over her. She had ventured in the Deep Roads again and again, every time it was needed and each time a small bit of her sanity would disappear.

They scared them in order to break them… for her the fear had been the necessary fuel that convinced her she was still alive, she could still feel, she could still fight… The fear meant that she was not dead or worse Tranquil. Nobody ever knew about this little fear of hers… she had not allowed them to see any of her weaknesses, always being the strong one for them.

She was walking in silence behind Fenris and two guards… they were heading towards the caves Danarius had spoken about and all she could think was that caves may have been underground as far as she was concerned because if they collapsed it was all there the darkness, the lack of air and that fear that still accompanied her. She was much more subdued than usual and her eyes lacked their usual sparkle.

From time to time Fenris darted a look back at her and he couldn't help but notice her slumped shoulders and her unnatural gaze. She was biting her lower lip which already had small punctured wounds on it. He had learned that she rarely feared something and he knew it was not the guards, or the slavers or even the wilds. Something in the caves frightened her and he knew not what exactly…

The caves were almost half a day away from the Magister's mansion, hidden in the mountains north of Minrathous. Most of them were camp sites for slavers and he found it a true folly on Danarius' part to send them there with only two guards, incompetent ones at that. One of them , the youngest seemed to be a child still, darting frightened glances left and right like a wounded colt. The other one seemed too preoccupied to dart leering glances at Kallian, undressing her with his looks. A wave of fury swept over him every time this happened, but he was not able to act upon it. Had Darrian been with them he might have been inclined to overpower the two fools, but as it was Kallian was preoccupied and he had no desire to fight alone against the two guards.

He found himself preoccupied about the elf girl since her encounter with the torturer… since he had almost sent her to her death. He had not been able to look her in the eyes since then… He wondered why he cared… He had blood on his hands, he had killed innocents, his soul was supposed to be hardened against these things. Yet he could not stand seeing her hurt… she was strong, that much was clear, she was no mere slave so why did he feel so drown to her? Why did she matter so much? She should have meant nothing to him.

After hours of walking in the wilderness the caves appeared at the horizon. Kallian inhaled sharply and quickened her face, walking next to Fenris. She said nothing to him, did not even glance at him, but his presence comforted her as Alistair's had done in the Deep Roads. She was not as strong as she wanted to seem, but she was able to mask it well.

They entered the caves a while after midday… the sun was shining powerfully in the sky and all she wanted to do was remain in the safety of the vast wilderness, but she could not. The caves twisted and twirled deep into the mountains, smaller paths meeting with the larger ones heading towards the core of the stone. Oghren might have been amazed by the monuments carved into stone by the water, by the domes and the stalactites, but all she could do was focus on the path.

One step in front of the other… gather ingredients… walk another step and another… breathe, just breathe… listen to the sounds of the mountain… don't panic… relax… fight it…

Even the guards were frightened by the caves which spoke volumes about their bravery, the elf warrior thought in disdain. Kallian was in front of him picking up yet another deep mushroom, while the two guards were in the rear, glancing left and right. So far nothing out of the ordinary had been heard in the caves, but one could not know when the slavers prowled in the darkness or when rocks started sliding from their places after the smallest noise.

As if he had jinxed themselves something indeed happened when Kallian walked on a small bridge, heading towards another section of the caves. The young fool heard something that startled him and jumped in fright bumping into the older guard.

"Watch where you're going you whelp," the guard cried out in both fright and annoyance, rattling the walls of the cave, starting a small avalanche of rocks. Fenris swore most colorfully under his breath and was surprised to hear Kallian do the same.

"Andraste's Knickerweasels!" the elf girl cried out as a particularly large rock fell on the wooden bridge she was standing on, knocking her aside and breaking three of the wooden plates. "What kind of idiots scream in a cave?"

Said idiots were trying their hardest to escape the abundance of rocks that was raining down on them. Their cries of fright rattled the cave even more and it soon became clear that it would take nothing short of a miracle to escape the place. Not bothering to think her way through, Kallian grabbed Fenris' hand and dashed in a sprint jumping over the missing plates of the bridge. Rocks and sand were still falling down on them, but they ran for if they remained in the same place there was no knowing if they would make it out alive.

They did not have the luxury of being aware of their surroundings… they ran until their lungs were on fire and only stopped when they believed no danger remained. Kallian sighed in relief and glanced around noticing they had no idea where they were… the darkness was closing down on her, but she tried to ignore it and make another step in what appeared to be the same direction.

It proved to be a big mistake… dried moss and small pebbles were hiding a large crater in the ground in which she fell. Trying to maintain her equilibrium she ended up dragging up Fenris after her… after that everything was dark.

Miles away, in Minrathous, a golden haired elf was on his way towards the heart of the city, in order to carry out another mission. He was not supposed to kill anyone this time, but gather information about a certain Magister that Danarius could not stand. It was wide known in Minrathous that apart from his temporary master, Magister Aurelia was one of the Archon's favorites. The woman was highly versed in all branches of magic and had a stern posture that seemed to scare away even the strongest willed people.

Darrian was on his way to meet with a certain informer found by a certain red haired bard when he was stopped in his path by a man dressed in fancy clothes, all ruffles and lace, with a horrid hat on his head supporting a very large feather and wearing the most hideous leather boots he had ever seen… and he had seen some of Bodhan's less savory things.

"I have been told about you," the man drawled in a weird accent making Darrian wonder whether the whole thing was not fake, "You say you are an assassin?"

The former Antivan Crow had anticipated hearing this particular question… however he had not anticipated who would ask that particular question. A strange man dressed as if he had stepped straight out of an Orlesian wardrobe, but not bearing the particular accent… something was quite wrong.

"Depends who is asking, no?" Darrian answered dryly. "Presuming I were an assassin, would you care to use my talents?"

"Perhaps…" the man said coyly and smiled in a wrong way, all twisted and self-assured. "Perhaps, I won't need to on the other hand."

The elf did not even have time to take out his daggers before he felt the hit… bastards had sneaked upon him from the behind. A sharp pain flared at the back of his head and his eyes rolled at the back oh his head.

After that everything was dark…


	22. Day 19: Trapped

**A/N This chapter ended up longer than I thought it would be and I had to struggle quite a bit to fit everything I wanted in it without remaining behind on my day count. Anyway here it is and I'm pretty proud of it. Enjoy! *points to disclaimer***

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><p>Drip… drip… drip… Water was dripping somewhere, she could hear it near her. Drip… drip… her head hurt, her eyes refused to open. Where was she? Drip… drip… drip… She remembered something… a cave, stones falling, a gap in the ground… falling. She struggled to open her eyes, but her lids almost refused to move. Everything hurt in a bigger or lesser degree, her hands, her body, her skin. Painfully she managed to open her eyes and looked around her. Darkness hit her full force and she wondered for a few moments whether the hit had not caused her to lose her sight. But no; if she looked carefully she was able to see shapes in the darkness, rocks, columns, walls… Feeling her wrist, she sought the bracelet and made a move in order to remove it. The metal had gotten crushed by the fall and was now cutting deep in her wrist. Taking it off would have been dangerous in case it hit a vein while being wretched from the skin. Kallian had no desire to bleed to death in a cave. Still, she needed light, needed to see her way around… Clenching her teeth and hoping she would not have to test her healing skills she pulled on the bracelet hard and let it slid to the ground with a clank. The elf girl hissed in pain and prayed to the Maker that wherever Fenris was he was still unconscious and could not see her.<p>

Channeling a bit of magic in her fingers she brought forth a pale orb of light letting it linger in order to allow her to see around… everywhere she looked she saw stone. Walls… rocks… ceiling… ground… columns… everything was cut off from the air and the sun. Dried moss could be found in the corners of the cave, even though water could be seen dripping from the ceiling. Everything was so small, so confined… a narrow path led further inside the heart of the cave. She couldn't see Fenris… where was he? She knew he had fallen in the chasm with her… was he hurt? Had he left her behind? In the darkness of the underground… the fact that she was alone, underground seemed to be catching up with her and Kallian started breathing hard, clawing at the walls unconsciously… she was buried alive. She had no food, no means to leave nothing… and the walls… they were crushing down on her. Her ragged breaths became shallower and she felt as if she was not able to breathe. Hot tears were falling down her cheeks and she was small again, very small and caught under the mass of debris after the house had fallen down on her. Everything was cramped… she could not breathe… no one could help her…

Suddenly a loud groan snapped her out of her flashback and she was in the cave once more, not under piles of debris and she could breath and she was alive… the light had died out in her state of panic but she brought it back to life and headed towards the lower end of the sector in which she was and saw that Fenris was there, caught under a large boulder… he was alive and he was hurt, but he had not left her behind and oh, Maker maybe they did have a chance if there was the two of them.

Moving her hands in an intricate pattern she rose the boulder from the elf's form and tossed it aside. Fenris' armor had a dent in it and the metal had bit in the flesh. A rib was clearly broken, one of its end poking out of the skin. Nearly flying into hysterics again Kallian thought about her knowledge of healing spells. She was no healer, Maker knew it, she could only heal scratches and bruises, but Maker he needed her and she could not let him down. She had to mend the bone and the tissue, close the wound and make sure he did not develop an infection. Kallian knelt by his side and gingerly unbuckled the straps of his armor. Careful not to damage his skin anymore she tugged on the upper side of his armor until it came loose, revealing a myriad of cuts, bruises and thorn fabric, where the armor bit in the flimsy tunic Fenris wore under it. The tunic was too damaged to use it for bandages so Kallian gently took it off, careful not to disrupt his wounds any further and placed it aside. Above her head the bulb of light started flickering and she understood a fire was in order. She quickly gathered as much dry moss as she found and piled in neatly before igniting it with a flick of her fingers. She made sure to place the flint and steel she carried in a pocket of her tunic in plain sight should the warrior wake up and demand answers.

Once his torso had been revealed, Kallian inhaled sharply seeing the large bruise that had appeared under the visible broken rib. Placing her hands at the sides of the bruise she felt the ribs and frowned when she understood that both of them were cracked, though thankfully, not completely broken. She decided to leave them last and make sure she mended his broken rib as much as she could. Concentrating she felt around the wound and forced the bone back in its position… in his unconscious state Fenris still cried out in pain. Kallian tried to ignore his pain and continued pressing down the bone with her magic until it snapped back in place. Her hands then hovered above his wound gently and glowed silver, mending the tissue and the skin that had been damaged. She closed the wound and moved down, to his cracked ribs. After dealing with the first cracked rib, she was forced to stop seeing as her powers were almost drained and her own body ached in pain. In her fall, she had managed to twist her ankle, but had paid it no notice as bent as she was on healing the warrior. Now, the pain was back full force and the ankle had started swelling. With her powers almost gone, Kallian was forced to chew on an elfroot she had in the small satchel strapped across her neck that held the majority of the herbs she had gathered.

The cave was damp and cold and there was nothing she could use as bandages. Fenris' tunic was soaked in blood and ripped in several places making it hard for her to make worthwhile straps out of it. Taking her own tunic off, the elf mage shivered in the coldness of the cave and tore the flimsy piece of clothing into identical straps which she then used to tie across Fenris' torso after finally managing to heal his last rib. She knew that healing bones was tricky and it was usually better to let them mend by themselves if one did not know what he is doing therefore she used only the force she needed to make sure the wounds were not dangerous.

Adding more moss to the fire she huddled close to it and looked at the mangled mess that was Fenris's tunic. Luckily it started warming up by the fire… Kallian glanced at the tunic and wondered how she would be able to make use of it. It was almost thorn into shreds and Kallian sighed eying it. She cut most of the front side off leaving only a horizontal strap of material and pulled it over her head with its back in front. The now front side of the tunic was less damaged, having only a few cuts where the armor was dented by the rocks.

The fire was cracking merrily, trying to outshine her sour mood… alone, in the darkness of the cave, praying feverishly that Fenris would wake up soon she found herself lonelier than she had ever felt since leaving Kinloch Hold.

Hours later it was Fenris' turn to return to consciousness… his sides ached as if on fire and his head was pounding dreadfully. However, he remembered the fall and the immense pain when the boulder crushed him so he figured that being able to actually feel something was much better than being dead. He opened his eyes, blinking to cast the blurriness away and noticed the embers of a small fire near him. Its pale light illuminated the small pile of dried moss so he took a handful and tossed it into the fire. He winced, the movement jarring his tender ribs and glanced in surprise at his midsection seeing someone had bandaged it carefully. As the fire grew in intensity he was able to see Kallian, curled protectively in a fetal position. She was wearing his tunic, which he noticed was pretty much thorn up and he understood that her own piece of clothing had been used to make his bandages. The silver bracelet she always wore was now deformed, but was still almost glued to her wrist.

He rose to his feet and staggered to the entrance of the cave's section, glancing forward, trying to see whether he could spot a light at the horizon. The darkness seemed to dim as the corridor stretched further on, but he was unable to tell whether this was due to the fact that the cave had an opening somewhere or it simply opened in another section.

Fenris turned around and glanced again at the sleeping form of his companion… he noticed now that she wore the tunic with its back forward seeing as the only think that remained of the front was a thick piece of fabric dangling horizontally. With her back exposed he was able to see that Hadriana had healed her welts, leaving only faint scars behind. However, now he was also able to see what she had hinted at when she had said that masters did not need to have magic to be cruel to their slaves. Older scars adorned her back, what remained from former welts, switches and probably beatings.

As he walked back to the fire, the soft shuffled of his feet woke Kallian up. She glanced around confused before finally remembering where she was and spotting Fenris up and about. Fortunately, it seemed that her spells had done their job properly.

"You shouldn't be walking just yet," she pointed out and propped herself in her elbows. "Those ribs of yours are still tender, surely they must hurt."

"I've been through worse," came his curt reply. She nodded in understanding and reached to her satchel, blessing her inspiration. Digging deep in the small bag she revealed a handful of berries and other fruit that she had gathered in the woods before reaching the caves.

"Didn't trust the guards to actually give us our rations," she explained as she handed the fruit to Fenris. "These will last two days at most so we really have to get out of here."

"Naturally," Fenris answered and accepted the assortment of wild fruit she offered him. Silence descended upon then and both wondered how long it would really take to get out of those Blighted cavers. If luck smiled upon them the corridor led to the outer world… if not how long would it take before fatigue and hunger took their tool?

Back in Minrathous, a golden haired elf was also just waking up after having been manhandled on the streets of the city. The room in which he woke up was peculiar, made of wood and straw, out of place in a city made of stone and marble as the Tevinter capital. He figured he must be at the outskirts of the city, where the poor dregs of the society lived. He was standing in an uncomfortable straw chair, but curiously enough he was not bound and his weapons had not been taken. Whoever had bottled him in the head had been either very foolish or needed something from him.

"Well, well," a voice drawled sarcastically, "it appears that our Sleeping Beauty has awakened."

The elf shot the man a look and recognized Nuncio from his old, murdering days. The man had icy blue eyes and a badly trimmed beard that had fallen out of style since the Orlesian occupation of Ferelden.

"Ah, Nuncio! I would say I missed you, but sadly that would be a lie."

"I have no grand pleasure of being in your presence Arainai and I am sure neither have you. I was sent here by the Guildmaster to remind you of your deal."

"What deal, dear Nuncio?" the former Crow drawled sarcastically, "the one according to whom I stop my killing spree at only one Guildmaster and a whole lot of his men if he sets me free? I seem to remember that one quite fondly yet here you are proving me wrong. Tsk, such a shame."

"You also promised the Guildmaster one last target if he sets you free…" Nuncio frowned with annoyance.

"Hmm, I do not quite recall that particular deal. Do refresh my memory, dear Nuncio."

"I am sure you remember the deal quite well…" Nuncio snarled, and then his face turned into a smug one. "I am also sure that you will not care much for this particular target. You might even enjoy the task."

"And why, pray tell, are you not pursuing this contract alone, dear Nuncio?" Zevran smirked in anticipation.

"I have no desire to get involved in a Magister's business… Do not meddle in the affairs of mages, for they are subtle and quick to anger, is that not the saying?" Nuncio replied sarcastically, "You on the other hand appear to be placed in the perfect spot to deal the killing blow."

"Oh?" Zevran asked with growing interest, "Is that so?"

"The target is Danarius, the man whose house you apparently infiltrated."

The furious, murderous glint that appeared in Zevran's eyes made the other Antivan Crow step backwards. Whatever it was that the Magister had done, the elf had taken it personally… that usually ended badly for the target.

"Consider it done, dear Nuncio," Zevran said as he rose to his feet in order to leave the building. "I hope, for your sake, that this is the last time we meet. Send the Guildmasters my regards."

A sudden chill fell over the small hut with the elf's departure and Nuncio found himself praying ardently to the Maker and Andraste… what was even more curious was that he was no believer.


	23. Day 20: Breakthrough

**A/N I completely and utterly hate this chapter. It's useless, it's badly written and I hate it. Nothing even happens in it. I promise I will change it, update it and make it better at some point, but for now I only tried to reach my day and word hit at NaNoWriMo. *points to disclaimer***

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><p>They had been walking hours without end on that accursed corridor, stopping only to recover their breaths and share in the sparse meal Kallian had on her possession. They slept briefly, frightened by any sound that could mean a giant spider lurking in the dark or a slaver prowling in the dark. They spent their time sharing tales, Fenris of Tevinter and what he heard of the Arlathan and Kallian of the past Blights and the occupation of Ferelden.<p>

They talked and talked about anything and everything doing anything to take over the silence of the caves. Kallian wondered what had become of the two guards… Fenris could not care less and hoped they lay somewhere rotting. Along the way Kallian gathered more ingredients and even found some edible mushrooms. When asked why she bothered, she answered that she had no desire to make it out alive just to die of lyrium poisoning. He recoiled as if someone had hit him, but she told him it was not he whom she blamed so he shouldn't blame himself either. He saw complete truth in her eyes and understood that she did not blame him in the least. Once more he found himself wondering what was she doing in Tevinter, in Danarius' care when it was clear that she was more than it met the eye. And if she was not a slave, then who had given her those scars?

In what they both assumed to have been the third day since the cave collapsed they managed to find the exit. The corridor they had walked on had indeed taken them outside somewhere near to the entrance they had first entered through. Seeing the brightness of the sun and feeling the fresh air, Kallian ran outside and dropped on her knees in the grass, crying out in joy. She had feared they would never be able to get out of those Blighted caverns, but now they were finally outside.

Fenris walked at a much subdued pace, he too glad they had made it outside in one piece. His eyes narrowed in contempt when he spotted the young guard near the entrance of the cave. The fool had a look of utter happiness on his face, one would have thought he was seeing his long lost grandmother not a pair of slaves.

"You're alive, thank the Maker," the boy sighed in relief, not bothered by the fact that both Kallian and Fenris were frowning at him. "Trust that fool Garren to almost kill everyone. Such a shame he died in the collapse of the cave or I would have killed him myself. But you're alive and that's what matters. Master Danarius won't be able to threaten my family again. Come on, let's go."

They followed the boy in silence, glancing at each other on the way… Kallian started believing that her desire to not kill Danarius would do more harm than good to people such as the guard and the slaves. Something had to be done.

In the gardens of Minrathous, a red haired bard was giggling softly while waving a feathered fan in front of her face. The poor fools had given her everything she wanted including the man of the liaison between Ferelden and Tevinter. The revelation had not shocked her as many had been expecting a betrayal on the man's part. Still, hearing it plain and clear in the open made her wish Zevran was there with her. He was always good for taking off some of the unwanted pressure off her shoulders.

Now, she had to choose… pursue the Tevinter culprit or leave him in peace? The attacker had been one of the lesser mages in the city who had contacts within the Antivan Crows. The three men that Zevran and Kaelyn had bested had been crows… only the mage had been from Tevinter seeing as he wanted to make sure the deed was done. He had been given money to poison the King and was promised a place among the Magisters if the task was executed successfully.

Leliana smiled at a joke made by one of the magisters and decided to pursue the mage. Who knew what interesting information the man had to offer? She might even find out the name of the Magister who was behind the attack… unless there weren't more of them?


End file.
